


"Such stuff as dreams are made on..."

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Het, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-13 04:24:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15356181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: When Detective Jim Ellison goes to a rural resort to get some respite from his newly-online senses, he finds himself drawn to a mysterious young man who has his own reasons for being there.





	"Such stuff as dreams are made on..."

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Elaine, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Artifact Storage Room 3](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Artifact_Storage_Room_3) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Artifact Storage Room 3’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/artifactstorageroom3/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> "We are such stuff 
> 
> As dreams are made on, and our little life
> 
> Is rounded with a sleep"
> 
> Prospero in **'The Tempest'** by William Shakespeare c.1611

**Part 1: A Dream Denied:**   


**Jim:**  


With a sigh of relief, Jim Ellison climbed down from his Explorer and gazed about him, stretching his arms above his head and rotating his shoulders to east the cramps from several hours’ driving. Taking in the sights and sounds of his destination, he smiled slightly when he found that, although still harsher than he was truly comfortable with, the sensory input was much more bearable than that which he had left behind in Cascade. 

For Jim was plagued by a condition which he neither wanted nor understood. As far as he was concerned, the so-called genetic advantage which gave him five heightened senses was nothing but a pain in the ass; one, furthermore, which could yet cost him his career as a detective in the Major Crimes Unit of Cascade’s Central Police Department. All he knew was that, ever since undertaking a solitary stakeout several months ago, he had suddenly been stricken by the curse of being overwhelmed by unexpected and incapacitating sensory spikes to the extent that he was sometimes actually immobilised for various lengths of time; lost within a specific sense and totally unresponsive to the outside world until brought out of his fugue by some other stimulus. 

What frightened him most during these episodes wasn’t fear for himself. Indeed, lately he’d begun to consider that eating his gun might be the only way out of this insanity. No, what he feared was freezing up during a fire fight, unable to back up his colleagues and possibly being responsible for their deaths. 

The condition had become so bad that his friend and Captain, Simon Banks, had suggested – no, _ordered_ – his officer to take some down-time to try and figure out what was going on, since there appeared to be no medical reason for Jim’s suffering. 

“Look, Jim” the big Captain had said. “I know you won’t want to hear this, but there are folks in this department who genuinely don’t want to work alongside you anymore. And it’s not just because you’re an abrasive bastard either” he continued wryly. 

“It’s just that they’re concerned for your safety – and their own. It’s pure luck that Joel didn’t take a bullet at the Morrison take-down, and that’s only because Megan saw you freeze up so she could move in and cover you both. It can’t go on, Jim. You know, and I know that you’re no coward, but your colleagues are beginning to wonder where you’re at.” 

Sighing despondently, Jim had had to agree. 

“Yeah, I know, Simon. Hell, with my hearing like it is now, I can pick up everything they’ve been saying. And I don’t blame them. If it was me in their place, _I’d_ want me to keep well away during potential confrontations. And the worst of it is, I don’t even know what’s going to set me off. I mean, last night I remember watching raindrops running down the balcony windows, thinking how beautiful they were when they caught the lamplight, and the next thing I knew it was two hours’ later when a clap of thunder overhead brought me out of it. 

“I don’t know what to do, Simon. I think I’m going crazy.” 

And there really wasn’t much Simon could say to reassure him that that wasn’t the case. 

And so Jim had finally been forced to call his father, reluctantly realising that the influential businessman who was William Ellison might have some suggestion as to how Jim should progress in his search for control and sanity. 

Although surprised at the contact, having been virtually estranged from his eldest son for many years, William had been quick to respond, arranging for Jim to visit a resort in Oregon which was owned by an old acquaintance. Overriding Jim’s objections, because Jim’s own preferences for vacations tended to involve hiking, fishing and basic camping, William used his most persuasive arguments. 

“You’ll love it, Jimmy” he enthused, ignoring his son’s expression of mild distaste and disbelief. 

“It’s owned and run by a fellow student from my college days, Moses Sutcliffe. Now I admit that Mo and I had little in common back then. He was far too influenced by the hippy movement for my taste. But once he’d gotten over his ‘free love’ and weird notions, he actually turned out to be an astute businessman. Turned the commune he’d helped create into a proper resort, where folks needing rest and respite from busy lifestyles can go and enjoy some real relaxation. 

“I went there once myself, not too long ago, and have to say I was most impressed. There’re all the activities you enjoy and more, coupled with comfortable accommodation and different therapy regimes if wanted, all in a spectacular setting. I think you’ll benefit from it, son. Just let me make the reservations, OK? My treat.” 

And in desperation, Jim had allowed himself to be persuaded.  


\------------------------  


So, now here he was, and he had to admit that at first glance, the Flying V Ranch and Resort looked every bit as spectacular as William had claimed. 

Several miles away from the nearest township, and well off the beaten track, the resort nestled against a backdrop of awesome Oregon scenery. Lush meadows swept towards deciduous woodland, which in turn gave way to majestic Douglas firs and the giant cedars that contributed to Oregon’s fame. Further away still, the misty outline of a mountain range drew Jim’s eyes, and he remembered a snippet of conversation with his ex-wife, Carolyn Plummer, once head of Forensics at the PD. 

Early on in their short and ill-fated marriage, while they still cared to try, they had travelled to see some of Carolyn’s friends who lived in Portland, OR. Rightly proud of their beautiful state, they had told the pair that, from specific viewspots, and depending on the weather, one could see one or several mountains. Laughing, their hostess had said that Oregon weather conditions could be measured by how many mountains could be viewed, hence a ‘one, two or three mountain day’, etc. Jim couldn’t recall now just how many mountains it was possible to see, although Mt Hood and Mt Bachelor sprang immediately to mind, but he grinned to himself, amused at the recollection, pleased for once that the memory was a happy one. 

Gazing up from the visitor’s parking lot towards the main building, Jim noted that the original farm house, although extensively remodelled and extended had managed to retain its rustic charm, the surrounding grounds tidy and pleasing without being overly manicured, in keeping with the location and the property’s character. A couple of large outbuildings, including a horse barn stood off to one side, while a group of well-maintained cabins, each within a good-sized plot, spread out from the other. Jim assumed that the bulk of the amenities would be at the rear of the main building so as not to detract from the initial impression of a pleasant rural retreat. 

Jim had no doubt that the cabins, despite their apparently simple and basic exterior design and construction, would be fully equipped and provisioned; as luxurious as visitors such as William Ellison would expect them to be. 

Hauling his one piece of luggage from the Explorer, Jim walked up the driveway to the reception area, testing the air carefully for scents that could upset his sensitive nose, and finding none so far, to his great relief. True, he could smell horses, hay and other farmyard odours, along with scent of myriad flowers and plants, but the clean, fresh air blowing across the woods and meadows bore no resemblance whatsoever to the harsh pollutants of the city which tormented him so greatly. 

Approaching the main entrance, Jim pondered on how quiet and restrained the atmosphere was, even though he knew the resort was still more than half full despite the lateness of the season. He supposed that most folks at this time of day would either be still participating in whatever activities or therapies they preferred, or taking the chance to have a quiet drink in the lounge bar before dinner. Indeed, as he crossed the airy, wood-panelled lobby to the reception desk, a well-dressed middle aged couple crossed in front of him, obviously making their way to the open double doors leading to the bar and restaurant area, nodding politely to Jim as they passed. 

At the desk stood a tall and very attractive young woman, casually but neatly dressed in fitted jeans and a pale blue polo shirt with the ‘Flying V’ logo embroidered over the left breast, who smiled up at Jim in genuine welcome. 

“Mr Ellison, I presume?” she said, smile widening at his nod of affirmation. 

“I’m Jan Sutcliffe, Mo’s daughter” she continued. “I act as receptionist and customer services representative as and when required. And whatever else Dad needs from time to time” and she laughed cheerfully. 

“I understand that you’re William Ellison’s son? Dad remembers your father well, and was pleased to get reacquainted with him. Anything we can do for you, just ask, OK?” 

“That’s very good of you, Jan. But please call me Jim. My Dad’s Mr Ellison” and he treated her to one of his most charming grins, which obviously pleased her no end. 

“I think for now I’d just like to get settled in, then perhaps check out the bar before dinner. It was a long drive, so I don’t think I’ll be wanting to do much more than relax this evening, and read up on the facilities so I can plan my day for tomorrow.” 

“No problem, Jim” she responded. “I’ve put you in cabin number 7. It’s the furthest from the main building, because I understood you wanted as much peace and quiet as possible. But I can easily reassign you to a closer one if you prefer?” 

“No, that sounds just fine, Jan. Thank you” and he smiled again, totally winning her over and putting a decided twinkle of interest in her rather fine green eyes. 

“Here you go then” she almost purred, handing over the cabin keys which were attached to a large, rustic wooden key ring. At his quizzical glance, Jan chuckled as she explained, “Yes, it is a bit of a monstrosity, isn’t it? But the idea is to make it easy to spot them if dropped. You’d be amazed how many guests manage to lose their keys when they’re out and about the ranch!” 

And Jim snickered in response, thinking to himself _if only you knew, Jan! If only you knew how easy it is for me to spot a dropped key with or without a log attached!_ But the thought effectively sobered him as he was rudely reminded of his ‘condition’, so, with another smile at Jan, he pocketed the key and took his leave, intending to get unpacked and showered before returning to the main house for a drink and some dinner.  


\-----------------------  


An hour or so later Jim strolled across the grass of the wide lawns in front of the main house, admiring the flowers and enjoying the still warm late evening air. His cabin had proved to be as luxurious as he had expected, and he couldn’t help but be grateful to his father for his generosity on this occasion. Sure, a tent in the wilds of Cascade National Forest was usually more to his taste, but once in a while this type of luxury made a nice change. 

When he had opened the cabin door, he had been pleasantly surprised by the well appointed interior, which was furnished in heavy, good quality rustic design wooden furniture and comfy-looking overstuffed armchairs and loveseat. The great room, which took up most of the first floor, also boasted a natural stone fireplace and hardwood floors covered with colourful rugs in bright, Native patterns. To the rear, in front of French doors offering a great view over a meadow leading up to woodland, a dining area had been set up, whilst in the corner a small but eminently serviceable kitchen had been ready stocked with tea, coffee, milk and sugar, bottled water and a few other basic necessities to tide him over until morning. A small deck area outside the French doors was equipped with two loungers and the appropriate furniture for al fresco eating if desired, and a brick built BBQ stood in the yard close at hand. 

The second floor had two bedrooms, with the master room enjoying the same view from the rear through a large picture window which opened onto a small balcony. Again comfortably furnished with a king size bed, ample closet space and small but luxurious en suite shower room, Jim had smiled to himself in contentment as he unpacked his small case and put away his few clothes and toiletries. 

Treating himself to a long and relaxing shower, he changed into clean jeans and tee, slipping on a lightweight jacket against the cooling evening breeze before wandering back up to the main house, happily anticipating a cold beer before dinner. 

However, instead of entering the main building, on impulse Jim veered off to the left towards the horse barn, curious to see the quality of the animals provided should he decide to take a trail ride at some point. As a child of wealthy parents, he had had the opportunity to ride regularly, but had gotten out of the habit once he left home for college and the army. It occurred to him that it was something he had enjoyed back then, and it would interesting to see if his skills on horseback were still there. He idly toyed with the idea, thinking that, like riding a bicycle, once learned you never really forgot. 

As he neared the barn, he spotted a small figure leading two horses in from the paddock at back, and he stopped abruptly, suddenly transfixed by a strange feeling of connection between him and the young man. Because that is what he could plainly see, heightened vision untroubled by the distance or gathering dusk, and for once he was grateful for the capability. 

The young man was of average height, around 5 feet 6 or 7 inches by Jim’s reckoning, which made him several inches shorter than Jim’s own buff 6 feet 2 inch physique. His compact frame was slender but not fragile in any way, with a good width of shoulder, trim waist and hips and shapely legs encased in well-worn jeans. His hair was long and curly, pulled back into a ponytail at his nape, and even in the half light Jim could make out shades of rich browns and dark auburn, highlighted in the faint glow from within the barn. 

It was his face which caused Jim to stare however, drawn by the large, deep blue eyes fringed with obscenely long dark lashes, a neat nose, high cheekbones and firm jaw, and the most temptingly lush-lipped mouth he had ever seen on either man or woman. All in all, he was astonishingly beautiful in a completely masculine way, and Jim was shocked to feel himself reacting in instinctive arousal at the sight. 

Stomping firmly down on his rebellious libido, Jim studied the young man’s expression, noting the unhappy frown creasing the wide brow as the other man was plainly immersed in deep thoughts, none of which seemed to be pleasant, and Jim found himself wishing he could remove the sadness from the lovely eyes. Despite his introspection, however, the man was plainly at ease with the horses he was leading, murmuring softly to them as he led them into the barn and shutting them in their stalls for the night with a friendly pat and titbit each produced from his jeans pocket. 

Drawn almost against his will, Jim slowly approached the barn, intending to introduce himself when the other man suddenly whipped round to stare at the entrance, face paling dramatically as he belatedly registered Jim’s presence. Within seconds he had sprinted from the barn through the far doors, and Jim was left staring after him in consternation, wondering what the hell he had done to provoke such a dramatic reaction. Finally shrugging in puzzled irritation, Jim retraced his steps to the main entrance, curiosity piqued, and fully intending to find out as much as possible about the enigmatic young man during his stay. He thought that this vacation might turn out to be considerably more interesting than he had envisaged after all. 

And it wasn’t to be very long before he was proved correct, and not necessarily in the best way....  


\----------------------  


Pushing through the main doors, Jim was side-tracked from his journey to the bar by a tall, wiry older man, who approached him, holding out his hand in welcome. He turned with a polite smile, realising that this must be Moses Sutcliffe himself, come to greet him in person. Sure enough, the tanned and handsome man addressed him with a friendly smile. 

“Mr Ellison, I presume? Hi. I’m Mo Sutcliffe. Just wanted to welcome you to the Flying V, and hope that the place lives up to your expectations. I expect your father’s already told you we were in college together?” and, at Jim’s nod of affirmation, he continued cheerfully. 

“Then he’ll also have told you that we didn’t exactly hit it off then” and he chuckled at the reminiscence. 

“Your father was one of the most focussed and dedicated business students I ever saw. Not like me! I embraced the ‘swinging sixties’ with open arms, much to my parents’ disgust! It wasn’t until I finally married and was presented with my first child that I actually grew up enough to use the brains I was born with. But once I was in a position to buy out my partners in the commune here, I tried to make up for lost time by creating a proper resort, although, god help me, I know that some of my hippy ex-friends consider I’ve truly sold out to the worship of Mammon!” and he snorted again, this time in ironic self-deprecation. 

“But enough of that! Do you have any questions right now, or can I help you with your plans for this evening?” 

Surprised but pleased at the older man’s affability, Jim replied with a grin of his own. 

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mo, and please call me Jim. As I told your daughter Jan, as far as I’m concerned, Mr Ellison is my Dad. And you’re right. He has told me about you, but I have to say he’s very impressed with what you’ve made of the ranch. He was most insistent that it was _the_ place where I could enjoy some real R and R, and I have to say that so far, I’m equally impressed. But for tonight, all I really want to do is enjoy a drink, a meal, then probably an early night once I’ve had a bit of a wander round to get my bearings.” 

“OK, Jim. Sounds good to me. Would you like to meet me after dinner and I’ll give you a quick guided tour? Then you can still get to bed at a reasonable hour, and there’s no hurry regarding breakfast, assuming you’ll be eating in our restaurant. Breakfast is served from 7.00 am to 9.30 am, which seems to cater for most people.” 

“Thanks, Mo. That sounds like a plan. I should be finished with dinner by 9.00 – 9.30 at the latest, so shall I meet you at the bar?” 

“No problem, Jim. Enjoy your meal, and see you at around 9.30” and Mo shook his hand again and strode away back to his office. 

Slightly bemused at the rapidity of the interaction, Jim realised he had had no opportunity to ask Mo about the young stable hand, but decided that he would make sure he brought up the topic when he met up with the owner after dinner. But for now, he simply looked forward to a cold beer and a good meal, unconscious of the fact that his senses were behaving themselves perfectly.  


\--------------------------  


Entering the bar area, Jim had even more reason to be impressed. The comfortable and well-stocked bar ran down the length of the large back room, with floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end promising a panoramic view of the outside to the rear of the house. On the other side, the restaurant somehow managed to appear both cosy and intimate yet spacious, with a large area of seating under a magnificent orangery. An adjoining deck offered al fresco dining, and a few hardier souls were taking advantage of it, sipping their drinks and enjoying the view. 

Despite the darkening sky, Jim could easily discern a magnificent backdrop of mountains behind a sizeable lake, and he paused for a moment to take in the other facilities now on display at the rear of the property. However, the cold beer was calling to him, so he approached the bar to claim his treat, intending to take it out onto the deck before taking his seat at in the dining area, undecided as yet as to whether he would eat inside or out. 

Appropriating a bar stool, Jim smiled at the attractive young barmaid, who approached with a grin to ask him what he required. 

“What do you have in bottled beers, please? I’ve heard a lot of good things about Oregon’s famous micro breweries, so I thought I’d like to try a few samples.” 

“Well, you’ve heard correctly, sir! We do have some pretty special brews, and Mo likes to stock as many as he can to support local industry. How about a Dead Guy Ale from Rogue Ales to start with?” 

“With a name like that, how can I refuse?” Jim replied with a smirk, and she returned quickly with the bottle and a glass. Now Jim would normally have drunk straight from the bottle, but in deference to the other guests, he used the glass, and took a long swig. 

“Very nice!” was his considered opinion, and the barmaid grinned happily. 

“Glad you like it, sir! I hope you’ll try others also during your stay with us. How long will you be here for?” she enquired, plainly fishing for information, as he was undoubtedly the most attractive hunk she’d seen here in a while, and apparently alone. 

“At least a week” he replied, knowing only too well what she was after, and somewhat flattered even if he had no intention of taking her up on her tacit offer. No need to be unfriendly, though, so he said, “My name’s Jim, by the way, and you’re?” “I’m Louisa” she replied quickly. “Pleased to meet you, Jim! Oh, excuse me!” and she hurried off to serve another customer further down the bar. 

Taking his glass and wandering out to the outside deck, Jim sipped his beer with relish as he took in the stunning view, appreciating the way the ranch’s development had complemented rather than impinged on the stunning landscape. As stars began to twinkle in the clear night sky, the carefully muted but adequate lighting from the complex spread out below him illuminated tennis courts and a miniature golf course nestling relatively unobtrusively beside the lake. To the right hand side of the sweep of grass and informal gardens leading to the lakefront jetty and fishing pier, a large, low and predominantly wooden building housed a small heated swimming pool and gym. Jim supposed that the various therapy suites would be there also, kept in the same location for convenience’ sake, and he noted with satisfaction the way the mellowed and carefully weathered wood finish blended almost seamlessly with the hues and shades of the woodlands behind it. 

To the left were the horse barn and home paddocks, and another older building, once the ranch bunkhouse and now modernised to house the resort’s staff. 

Contemplating the bunkhouse, Jim felt sure that the mysterious young man was there, and his curiosity drove him back to the bar for the dual purpose of getting himself another beer, and also to pump Louisa for information about his prey. 

Arriving at the bar and attracting Louisa’s attention, Jim ordered another Dead Guy Ale, then casually asked her about the object of his interest, hoping that she was as fond of gossip as he felt she might be. Luckily for him, that turned out to be the case, although if she had realised just how interested he was in the young man rather than in her, she would probably have been much more reticent. 

“Short guy with long hair, working in the stables? Oh yeah. His name’s Blair Sandburg. He’s one of Mo’s strays” she added with a sniff of distain. “Keeps himself to himself most of the time, but he’s been here about a month. I don’t know that much about him, except that he used to visit here years ago with his hippy dippy Mom when it was still a commune, and he came back here to stay at Mo’s invitation while he got himself together – some sort of trouble at work, I think” she continued with ill-concealed relish. 

“I think he’s some sort of teacher from Rainier University in Cascade, or at least, he was. But any more than that, I can’t say. The horses like him though!” she finished with a faintly mocking laugh. 

From the change in her attitude, Jim surmised that she had probably tried and failed to make an impression on Sandburg, hence her snippy comments. Forcing himself to maintain his friendly smile despite his irritation at her underlying bitchiness, Jim thanked her for his drink, then took himself off to have dinner, deciding after all that it was still warm enough to eat out on the deck, where he would have a modicum of privacy, and might also catch a glimpse of young Mr Sandburg down at the bunkhouse....  


\-----------------------  


At 9.30 Mo joined Jim at the bar as promised, asking how Jim had enjoyed his meal. 

“Very good, Mo, thanks. I had the steak with everything, and I’ve got to say it was beautifully done. Local produce again?” 

“Yep, as much as I can manage” replied the older man with a pleased smile. “I see you’ve taken to our microbrews also” he added, nodding at the Full Sail Amber Jim was now enjoying. 

With a wide grin of his own, Jim responded cheerfully, “Sure have, Mo! I had no idea there were so many breweries to choose from, but from the leaflet Louisa gave me to look at, it seems like the whole State’s into it! Having said that, I’ve had enough for tonight, though, and I can feel my bed beckoning me soon. But I’m happy to have that tour first if the offer’s still on?” 

“Certainly, Jim! I guess you’ll want to see the pool and gym complex first?” and Mo stood to accompany his guest once Jim had drained the last of his beer. 

Starting with the pool and well-equipped gym, Mo explained what other amenities were on offer, which included aromatherapy, massage and yoga. There was also a spa pool and steam room, which Jim knew he would be trying out, especially after a good workout in the gym. Although not particularly concerned with tennis and miniature golf, Jim was pleased to learn that the lake was well-stocked, and that he could either fish from the pier, or take a small boat out onto the lake, which again was something he fully intended to do, having stowed his fishing gear in the Explorer in the hope that he would get the opportunity to indulge in a favourite pastime. 

As they continued walking, Jim gently steered the conversation towards Sandburg, saying, “I see you’ve got some nice riding horses here, Mo. I’d like to try out one of the trail rides while I’m here, although it’s been years since I rode last. Is that young guy with the long hair one of the guides?” 

“Who, Blair?” responded Mo, quirking his eyebrow at the query. “Oh no, well, at least he’s well capable of the task, but he’s actually a personal guest of mine. Chooses to keep himself to himself though, which is why he’s not staying with us in the main house. He likes to keep busy, and he’s good with the horses, so I’m happy to accept his help. But if you’re serious about riding, I can easily set you up with Randy or Paul who are our usual guides.” And Jim realised that as far as Mo was concerned, the topic was closed for discussion, so common politeness precluded Jim from pursuing the matter further. 

Shortly after, Mo bid him goodnight, and Jim retired to his cabin to get ready for bed, the early start and the long drive finally catching up with him. However, he lay awake for a while in the comforting darkness pondering on how best to engineer a proper meeting with Blair Sandburg. 

Because he was growing more and more convinced that there was something about him – something important to Jim’s own welfare that he couldn’t yet explain, but he surely intended to explore the situation to the best of his ability.  


\----------------------------  


**Blair:**  


In his tiny room at the bunkhouse, the subject of Jim’s thoughts curled up unhappily on his own bed, torn with indecision regarding his next course of action as his hard-earned relative peace of mind had been shattered once again. 

He wasn’t naive enough to believe that he could remain at the Flying V indefinitely despite Mo’s protestations of hospitality, but he had hoped that he had finally managed to shake off his tenacious pursuer, only to find that he was now the object of someone else’s attention, and he had no desire whatsoever to let himself fall into another such person’s clutches. 

The problem was that his deepest instinct was to allow and embrace the contact, even though common sense told him to run and keep running for as long and as far as was necessary to find somewhere where he could reclaim his right to a life of his own. 

Because for good or ill, Blair Sandburg was a Guide. A person with the innate ability to partner and be a companion to a Sentinel – the other half of the whole, or soulmate to an amazingly gifted individual born to serve his or her tribe as protector, watchman and so much more. Individuals who, through natural genetic variation had up to five senses heightened to an incredible degree. Individuals who it had long been assumed had died out, no longer required in modern societies, although Blair had worked for years to prove that they still existed. And he had proved to be correct. 

And Blair hated it.  


\-----------------------------  


**Six months previously:**  


Blair Sandburg, doctoral candidate and Teaching Fellow in Rainier University’s Anthropology Department, jogged up the steps of Hargrove Hall with none of his usual bounce and _joie de vivre._ Instead, the young man’s open face and mobile features were creased in an unaccustomed frown as he considered the implications of the last couple of hours. Because Blair had just had a meeting with his dissertation committee regarding the subject matter of his in-progress dissertation, and he had been extremely disappointed with their reaction to his opening chapter and proposed course of action. 

Blair knew without a hint of complacency that he was smart. Smart enough to have been accepted into Rainier University at the tender age of fifteen having spent his early years travelling the world with his peripatetic evergreen hippy Mom Naomi. Smart enough to have obtained his Bachelor’s degree by nineteen years old and his Master’s degree before his twenty-first birthday. It was almost enough to compensate for his low self-esteem and general lack of self confidence in personal appearance and social interaction which he camouflaged masterfully with his ability to talk up a storm under almost any circumstances. 

However, despite the enthusiasm which his Master’s thesis had generated, and his eager acceptance into the doctoral programme, he now found himself butting heads with his committee, who, to a man – and woman – were growing increasingly disdainful of his subject matter and progress thus far, and pressure was growing for him to ditch his present topic and begin afresh with something more acceptable in their considered academic opinions. But that was so hard for him to accept, even though he knew they had a point. And right now he had no idea how to progress his argument without solid evidence, which in this case involved finding a living specimen. 

Blair had been totally enthralled by the topic of Sentinels ever since reading a copy of ‘The Sentinels of Paraguay’ – a treatise by Sir Richard Burton, the renowned Victorian explorer. Disparaged by Burton’s peers, and long-ignored by anthropologists for years, Blair was nevertheless so fascinated by Burton’s descriptions of the contribution made by such people in pre-industrial cultures that he had researched every scrap of information and more recent references to aboriginal Sentinel and Guide pairs that he could lay his hands on. The resulting Master’s thesis proved to be a compelling and enlightening study on the proven existence of tribal Sentinels which was universally well-received and established Blair as the leading – if not the only - living expert in Sentinel studies. 

However, when Blair proposed to expand his study into the realms of exploring the possible existence of Sentinels in modern, Westernised society, and how they could be integrated into relevant occupations he was met with palpable scorn and not a little patronising mockery. The adverse reaction served only to harden Blair’s resolve, and he had pushed ahead with his outline and research schedule, working tirelessly to flesh out his project with hard fact, but this last meeting had made it abundantly clear that continuing with his chosen topic now rested entirely on his ability to provide living proof. 

And so far he had had no luck whatsoever. 

Sure, he had traced plenty of people with one or two heightened senses, such as wine-tasters, virtuoso musicians and crack shots, but no one even approaching a full Sentinel with all five senses enhanced. 

Glumly pushing through the doors of Hargrove Hall and making his way to his tiny office-cum-storage room, he was forced to consider that his committee members may well be right, and he should shelve his beloved Sentinel diss in favour of something more acceptable. 

Sinking into his battered desk chair with a deep sigh, he looked up at a light tap on his open door to see his student helper Emily peering in at him, her pretty face reflecting her concern. 

Taking in her favourite teacher’s downcast expression, her own face crumpled in sympathy. 

“I take it the meeting didn’t go well, then, Blair?” she enquired gently. 

“That obvious, huh?” replied Blair with a wry grin. “You’re quite right of course” he continued ruefully. “Even Eli has lost patience with me. Says I’ve prevaricated long enough, and he and the rest of the committee want to see real proof. And I just don’t know where else to look!” and he sighed again, mouth down-turned in disappointment. 

“Oh Blair, I’m so sorry! But if the renowned Dr Eli Stoddard himself is withdrawing his support, perhaps it really is time to tackle your alternative topic. I know how much you love your Sentinels, Teach, but perhaps you can continue to search for them once you’ve got your PhD out of the way?” 

“Yeah, I guess. You’re right again, Em. After all, once I get that doctorate, they can’t stop me pursuing my dreams in my own time!” and he grinned up at her, natural cheerfulness beginning to reassert itself. 

“Might even turn the Sentinel diss into a novel instead” he continued, spirits reviving little by little at his friend’s enthusiastic nod of approval. “After all, to most folks it’ll sound like fiction anyway!” 

“There you go, Blair! And we both know that you’ll easily get your other diss completed in plenty of time. I have every faith in you!” 

“Thanks, Em! I don’t know what I’d do without your help and encouragement. You’ve been a godsend to me these past two years. What am I going to do when you graduate and leave for pastures new?” 

“Well, that won’t be for at least another year yet” answered Emily with a smile. “And by that time, I have no doubt you’ll be Doctor Sandburg, and you certainly won’t need me anymore!” 

“Not true, Em! You’re the best! And now I think I’ll look through my paperwork on the ‘closed societies’ topic. May even get a modicum of enthusiasm going, huh?” 

“That’s the spirit, Teach! You show ‘em!” and with another smile, Emily turned to go, saying over her shoulder as she left, “See you tomorrow morning bright and early, Teach. I’ve photocopied your Anthro 101 test papers, so you’ll be good to go....” 

With a smile of genuine gratitude, Blair waved her off, then booted up his laptop, intending to open the file containing his alternative dissertation topic outline. After all, having made the decision, there was little point in delaying any longer. And perhaps it was time to call Captain Anderson at Cascade PD to see if his offer of Blair studying his department was still going....  


\------------------------  


The following morning, having given his Anthro 101 class their test, Blair drove over to the Cascade Central PD to keep his appointment with Captain Anderson of the Homicide division. He knew very well that under normal circumstances it would have been highly unlikely for his request for a ride-along observer’s pass to have been met with anything but outright refusal, but Blair had voluntarily tutored Anderson’s son to gain the required grades to be accepted into Rainier’s Criminal Justice programme, so the man owed him. 

Not only that, but Blair actually liked the big, bluff Captain, so he was looking forward to the upcoming meeting with more enthusiasm than he would have expected to feel. Especially knowing how his Mom Naomi felt about ‘the pigs’, having come up against them more than once in her protesting days. Blair grinned wryly at the thought, imagining what she would say to his choosing to actually study a police department. He decided she’d probably have a cow, and chuckled out loud at the idea. Nevertheless he had made an effort to dress a little more appropriately in an attempt to look less nerdy, tying his long curls back neatly in a ponytail and wearing one of his more respectable jackets although he had no illusions that there would be more than a few police personnel who would view his presence as an unnecessary distraction. 

Arriving at the PD, he picked up his visitor’s pass and made his way up to the Homicide department, bouncing a little in nervous anticipation as he exited the elevator at the fifth floor. However, as he walked down the long corridor towards the Homicide bullpen, he was distracted by a loud altercation going on in a side office of another department. 

Curiosity piqued, but not wanting to be caught staring, he slowed his steps and spotted a totally gorgeous but extremely agitated blonde woman arguing with a frustrated-looking female uniformed officer. 

“I already _told_ you!” she snarled. “My clothes were _hurting_ me! I _had_ to get rid of them. Look!” and she pulled her sweater sleeve up to reveal angry-looking welts. “They’re _still_ hurting me! Just let me get out of here, and I promise I’ll go straight home before stripping again in public, OK?” 

With a grimace, the female officer finally capitulated. 

“OK, Ms Barnes. You can go. But if the shop manager decides to make more of your impromptu striptease, you’ll be hearing from me again. Just go home and get those sores treated, OK?” she finished with grudging sympathy, and then she stood to leave, letting the still angry blonde precede her. 

Neither woman appeared to notice Blair as he stepped aside to let them pass, and he carried on walking, unaware of the speculative glance sent his way by the blonde as he pushed open the doors to the Homicide bullpen.  


\--------------------------  


A couple of hours later, a much more cheerful Blair returned to his office in Hargrove Hall, having obtained Captain Anderson’s promise of a ride-along pass with one of his detective teams. Since mid-term exams were rapidly approaching, Blair didn’t intend to take up the offer until grading and posting the results was done with, but once he had a little more free time, he meant to put as many hours into gathering practical information for his new dissertation as possible. 

Certainly, it wouldn’t hold the same attraction as the Sentinel topic, but Blair intended to make the most of it, believing that it had merit. He was, after all, impressed by sub-cultures and closed societies, so observing how they worked from the inside was a fascinating opportunity no anthropologist would want to pass up. And after the PD, he would try to do a similar stint with the Fire Service, and even paramedics if possible. All in all, as he had half-jokingly said to Emily, he was actually feeling a good deal more enthusiastic after all; his normal exuberance reasserting itself once again. 

Unfortunately for Blair, there was someone out there observing the observer. Someone who intended to disrupt his plans yet again, and this time in the worst possible way.   


\-----------------------  


Alex Barnes aka Alicia Bannister was without question a beautiful woman. She knew it, and used it to her advantage as coldly and clinically as she used her undoubted intelligence and particular skills. She also knew what she was, and what she needed, having done plenty of her own research once her sensory problems began. And she couldn’t believe her luck in tracking down the one person who could solve her problems for her, willingly or not. 

For Alex did indeed have all five senses enhanced, coming online after a spell in solitary confinement whilst doing jail-time for armed robbery. And once she was released, she was only too happy to use her new-found ability to its best advantage, thus making her a much more successful thief, and highly sought-after by crime lords and police alike. Except that the police so far had absolutely no idea of her new identity, and she was determined to keep it that way. 

However, the problems associated with the senses had begun to impinge on her physical comfort as much as her criminal activities, and after a brief but almost disastrous zone during a particularly delicate break-in at a laboratory, she knew she had to do something about it, and quickly. Sensory spikes and super-sensitive skin made her life a misery, so she was forced to search for both the source and the remedy, finally discovering a Master’s thesis by one Blair Sandburg which not only accurately described her condition, but implied that the writer understood how to help her. 

Reading about tribal Sentinels and their contribution to society made no impression on Alex, but she became deeply interested in the concept of a Guide or companion, who appeared to function as backup and a source of grounding for the Sentinel such that he or she didn’t get lost in one sense, as Alex had discovered to her cost. Although the author of the thesis had made no specific claims or expanded overmuch on the role of guide, Alex knew from the moment she set eyes on the young man at the PD that he was special, and her rapidly settling senses told her that she needed his help. And she couldn’t believe her luck when she tailed him back to Rainier and saw him enter Hargrove Hall, where he was greeted by several students by name. She had discovered Blair Sandburg purely by chance, but if she had believed in Fate, it couldn’t have pleased her more. He was going to help her, or pay the price.  


\----------------------  


As Blair pulled the pile of test papers towards him, intending to make a start on marking and grading before his official office hours began, he was distracted by a knock on his closed door. At his invitation to enter, the door opened to reveal the beautiful blonde woman he had seen at the PD. 

“Blair Sandburg?” she purred, and at his rather bemused nod of confirmation she continued, “I do believe you can help me. I think I may well be one of those Sentinels you wrote about....” 

“Um, I think I saw you at the PD just now, didn’t I?” Blair replied, his excitement building rapidly as he considered the implications, thoughts running madly around his brain as the tantalising chance of completing his Sentinel dissertation seemed once more within the realms of possibility. “You were having trouble with your sense of touch, weren’t you? I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with that officer. You said your clothes hurt?” 

“Yes, they certainly did!” Alex said, smiling seductively. “It got so bad that I’m afraid I started to rip them off in public. I don’t think the store manager appreciated the impromptu floor show” and she laughed softly. “But they’re so much better now – now you’re near me”, and her smile widened further at his delightful blush. 

Yes, she freely admitted that her senses dictated that she touch and taste him, and in truth it would be no hardship even though he wasn’t her usual type. As a tall woman, she preferred tall and built in a man rather than short and cute, but she couldn’t deny that Sandburg was attractive. And it wasn’t as if it was going to be any more than a convenient working relationship, as far as she was concerned, anyway. All she needed to do now was whet his appetite by offering to allow him to study her, and when she needed to move on, well, she’d just play it by ear. The Guide was hers now, whether he liked it or not.  


\-----------------------------  


**Present:**  


Back in the bunkhouse, Blair replayed the scene again in his head, face etched in misery. He had been played masterfully for a fool, and he had fallen for everything Alex had told him. But he had paid a high price for his gullibility, and now, just when he had begun to allow himself to relax a little, he was in danger of being caught again. Sighing despondently, he considered his options, such as they were, because he knew for sure that the big detective who had approached him in the barn was a Sentinel whether Ellison realised it or not. The Guide in Blair who had come online through his relationship with Alex Barnes now recognised the signs in others, and he had absolutely no wish to repeat the experience. 

Completely unable to derail his train of thought, his mind continued to cycle through the events of the past few months, and the havoc they had wreaked on his life. Sitting up on the bed, arms wrapped around his knees, Blair was powerless to control the few tears that leaked from his eyes as the memories came back thick and fast, despite chastising himself roundly for the pity party.  


\----------------------  


When Alex had stood up to leave his office at that first meeting, she had leaned forward to kiss his cheek affectionately, promising to meet him later that afternoon once he had finished his duties at Rainier. Totally smitten, and almost bursting with happiness, Blair had enjoyed the hours of testing and discussion with the new Sentinel, and that night had ended up in Alex’s bed, where she seduced him with promises of a prolonged study subject in return for his help in controlling her senses. 

In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Blair had felt energised, almost tingling with euphoria and confidence, a phenomenon which seemed to increase after each occasion such that he fairly bounced through the following days. In fact, although she was well-used to her teacher’s normal levels of hyperactivity, Emily was driven to voice her opinion that Blair was acting like the Energiser Bunny on speed, a comment that made Blair laugh out loud in glee. It did give him pause for thought though, and that night, lying in Alex’s arms, he shyly confessed to her that he thought that he might well be developing powers of his own. 

“You know, Alex, I feel so different now, ever since we started working and sleeping together. Um, I think I might be a Guide - perhaps _your_ Guide...” he added hopefully. 

And Alex had replied complacently with a throaty chuckle, “Well, of _course_ you are, darling!” and kissed him into silence again. 

As the days passed, and mid-terms came and went with Blair maintaining his hectic schedule, he was growing certain of two things. The first was that he was falling in love with Alex, and the second was that he really could submit his Sentinel dissertation after all. He was just on the point of calling Captain Anderson to explain that he wouldn’t be needing the ride-along pass after all when all his dreams came crashing down around his ears. 

That night they had spent their usual evening routine together but the following morning Blair woke up alone in Alex’s bed to see a tall, dark haired man sneering disdainfully down at him. Not only that, but his beloved Alex was wrapped possessively in the guy’s arms, smiling widely as she plainly revelled in the proximity of her long-time lover and partner-in-crime, Carl Hettinger. 

As Blair stared at them, speechless with shock and blushing with humiliation, he was nonchalantly introduced to Hettinger as Alex’s ‘pet’ – the Guide she had been seeking, and who was now going to be a part of their team even if he didn’t yet know it. 

Mortified and heart-broken, Blair had struggled into his clothes and run from the apartment, their cruel laughter ringing in his ears, and Alex’s smug words scorching themselves into his memory. 

“Let him go, baby. He can’t go far, and I can track him anywhere now. We’ll pick him up later when we need him...” 

Sobbing in distress, he had shut himself in his office at Hargrove Hall, desperately needing to try and work through his turbulent emotions in a modicum of privacy. He was still there that evening when Alex and Hettinger had come to collect him, having carried out the heist that Carl had been setting up while Alex had been spending time with Blair.  


\-------------------------  


While Blair had been locked away in his tiny office, Alex and Carl had raided a laboratory in another part of Cascade, stealing a canister of Ebola virus which they intended to sell to a South American crime lord who had commissioned them to carry out the theft. However, they discovered to their cost that Carl’s reconnaissance of the site hadn’t been as thorough as he had claimed, and the sophisticated security systems ensured a rapid response from the cops. With the police hot on their heels, Alex and Carl fled to Rainier’s campus to grab Blair, as the Sentinel insisted that she needed her Guide to control her senses in the long-term despite Carl’s angry protestations. 

Bursting into Blair’s office, he was grabbed at gunpoint and hustled out of Hargrove Hall even as approaching sirens threatened imminent confrontation and capture. Breaking free of Alex’s grip, Blair had attempted to run, only for Carl to hit him from behind, toppling him sprawling and unconscious into the ornamental fountain on the grassy area opposite the main doors. Dragging a reluctant Alex with him as they made their escape, Carl left Blair floating face down in the shallow water, where the pursuing cops found him a short while later. 

Although clinically dead for several minutes, to everyone’s surprise the EMTs had managed to revive Blair, and he was rushed to hospital where he was treated for concussion and the after-effects of drowning. However, after telling the cops everything he could about Alex and Carl, as soon as he was able to get out of bed without collapsing, Blair signed himself out AMA, intending to put as much distance between him and Cascade as possible. He was certain that Alex would come back for him, and was terrified of the consequences should she get her hands on him again. He was also certain that so-called protective custody would be no barrier to a determined Sentinel, so he gathered together a few necessary possessions and his ever-present backpack, intending to make a fast getaway. However, his conscience insisted that he made the effort to quickly compose an explanatory letter and apology which he posted to the Head of the Anthropology Department, with emailed copies to his dissertation committee members. 

That done; and stuffing everything into his old Corvair; he drove away from Cascade, taking to the coastal roads in an instinctive need to travel south. Stopping en route to call his Mom, he had asked Naomi to arrange for the clearing of his apartment and putting his remaining possessions into storage. Not wanting her to worry about him, he simply told her that he had a sudden urge to travel for a while, knowing that she would easily accept his explanation since it was second nature to her, and she would placidly assume that her son was simply reverting to normal, finally bored with the strictures of academia. 

A little further on, he stopped at a roadside dealership where he swapped his beloved Corvair for another classic, this time an old green Volvo, in the hope that it would help throw any pursuers off the scent. He had also had the presence of mind to close his bank account and withdraw his small amount of savings, thus ensuring he couldn’t leave a trail of traceable card payments in his wake. 

During this frantic activity, however, his emotions were in turmoil, and as he had increased the distance between himself and his life in Cascade, he was almost overwhelmed by feelings of anxiety, self-condemnation and devastation that his world had been destroyed because of his single-minded desire to grasp the Holy Grail in the form of his own Sentinel. Because of his gullibility, he was now a fugitive, academic and social ties all severed because he had willingly allowed himself to fall under a Sentinel’s spell. 

Many hours of driving later saw him travelling down the Oregon coastline, and it was there that he had finally remembered the commune where he and Naomi had stayed on several occasions. Desperately in need of a bolt hole where he could stop for a while and attempt to heal a little of the profound damage to his psyche, he turned inland, praying that the ranch still existed, and that they would take him in. 

And so he had arrived at the Flying V, greatly surprised at the changes he saw, but pitifully grateful to be greeted by Mo Sutcliffe with open arms, and he had been here ever since, clinging to the anonymity and shelter he was willingly offered. 

But now it looked like his brief respite was over, thanks to the arrival of the handsome but potentially so dangerous detective, and Blair was trapped once more in the horns of a dilemma. Run away or submit to his Guide instincts? Gods! It seemed as if he couldn’t win either way....  


\--------------------  


**Part 2: Dreams becoming nightmares:**  


The following morning, a greatly refreshed and well-rested Jim woke bright and early, eagerly looking forward to the upcoming day, and cheerfully determined to arrange a meeting with Blair Sandburg. His senses felt sharp but comfortable, and although he had no real understanding of why they should be so, he was only too happy to enjoy the situation while it lasted. 

Enjoying a hot shower, and dressing in clothes that for once didn’t feel like sackcloth and ashes against his skin, Jim made his way over to the main building to have an early breakfast before planning his day. 

As he crossed the lobby and headed towards the restaurant area, he met a smiling Jan, who wished him good morning, and asked how he had slept. 

“Very well, thanks, Jan. The cabin’s really quiet, and the bed’s comfortable, so I couldn’t ask for more. And after breakfast, I’m going to see if I can arrange a trail ride. It’s been a long time since I rode a horse, and I’d like to see if it’s still as much fun as I remember.” 

“Well, enjoy your day, Jim. I don’t think you’ll have a problem riding. Our animals are all well-trained, and there are different levels of ride you can go on, depending on your experience.” 

“Thanks Jan. See you later, I expect” and Jim took his leave of her and went to join the small group of early risers for breakfast.  


\------------------  


Over in the horse barn, a very rumpled and weary-looking Blair tossed armfuls of hay into the stalls of the horses that would be in use that day. He felt exhausted from a sleepless night of tossing and turning, worrying incessantly about his choices, but not yet having reached any decision, other than that he was still here, at least for today. 

Patting the rump of the horse he had just fed, he was suddenly aware of the same tingling presence he had felt last night. Swinging around, he saw Jim Ellison approaching the barn, striding towards him purposefully, but wearing a friendly grin, which lit up cornflower blue eyes in a clean-cut and handsome face. 

Screwing up his nerve, Blair straightened his shoulders, this time prepared to face up to Ellison despite his fear although he felt his heart hammering in his chest, and his hands grew clammy as he clenched his fists at his sides. 

Although his grin remained in place, Jim was disconcerted by the effect he seemed to have on Sandburg. His acute hearing allowed him to easily detect the thundering of the young man’s heart, even as his sensitive nose picked up the sour taint of what he assumed to be fear, which overlay Sandburg’s otherwise enticing individual scent. Keeping his demeanour unthreatening, he closed the distance between them, taking the time to appreciate Blair’s wide blue eyes, high cheekbones and lush mouth, even though the young man’s current expression resembled that of a deer caught in the headlights, and his breaths grew more rapid as he plainly wrestled with oncoming panic. 

“Hey there. I was looking to arrange a ride this morning” Jim began amiably. “I understand there are several different ones going out today. Can you give me an idea of what I should expect? I have ridden before, but it’s been a good few years now...” and he widened his smile as he quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at Blair. 

Swallowing hard, Blair cursed himself for a wuss before dredging up a sensible answer. 

“Um, well, I don’t really work here.... That is, I’m not one of the trail guides, so you shouldn’t take everything I tell you as official, OK?” and at Jim’s friendly nod, he forced himself to continue, trying to sound normal and unworried even though he knew that even a newly online and unguided Sentinel would see straight through his pathetic pretence. 

“Well, the first ride of the day is usually the one for experienced riders – those who enjoy a gallop, and can handle a horse over different terrain. It usually takes a couple of hours at least, and covers a reasonable distance. The intermediate ride is about an hour and a half, but doesn’t cover the more difficult terrain, and the pace is gentler. The beginner’s ride goes out in the afternoon, and is really just a quiet hack through the home paddocks and woodland. I don’t think they even go out of a walk, so it’s suitable for the elderly and complete novices. Is there anything else you need to know?” and he congratulated himself on his apparently calm response even though he was hoping against hope that Ellison would be satisfied with that and leave him alone. 

No such luck, however, as Jim, having made contact, had no intention of letting Blair go so quickly. 

“Hmmm. Sounds like I’ll be OK with the first ride then” he mused, assuming a considering expression. “I may be a bit rusty, but I wouldn’t enjoy anything too gentle. I don’t suppose you’d come on the same ride as me?” he continued hopefully. “It’d be good to go out with someone who knows the area without being in charge of the group. What do you say? I’m sure Mo wouldn’t mind....” 

_Well, shit! Now what?_ Blair thought. _How can I back out without sounding like I’m a complete wimp? At least if we’re in company I guess he can’t try anything. He is a cop after all..._

Gathering his courage, he nodded decisively, praying he wasn’t making a huge mistake. 

“OK, I guess. Um, I’m Blair Sandburg, by the way.” 

“Pleased to meet you, Blair, and I’m Jim Ellison” Jim replied, holding out his hand for the other man to shake. 

“Um, yeah, I know” murmured Blair a little abashedly. “I asked Mo who you were after I saw you last night. And I’m sorry for running away like that. You startled me, is all” and he ducked his head in embarrassment, hoping Ellison wouldn’t make any more of it. 

“That’s OK, Blair. I shouldn’t have blundered in on you like that unexpectedly. I’m not surprised you were startled. Let’s just forget it, shall we, and start afresh?” 

And there wasn’t anything Blair could do except agree without making himself look even more foolish, at least in his own opinion. 

As they made their way back to the main desk to sign up for the ride, Jim showed no inclination to leave Blair’s side even though he realised the younger man was still uneasy in his presence. He simply intended to hang in there, keeping his conversation light and unthreatening in the hope that he would gradually break down Blair’s reserve and win his confidence a little. And as the morning wore on, his determinedly friendly approach seemed to be working, as Blair thawed little by little, his responses slightly less guarded and growing a little more spontaneous as he relaxed minutely in the big man’s company. 

By the time they returned from the ride, which Jim thoroughly enjoyed, Blair was almost comfortable as long as Jim kept his comments superficial, and refrained from making any more personal enquiries. 

As they unsaddled their mounts, Jim said, “You know, I really enjoyed myself. I’d forgotten how much fun horseback riding is, but having good company made it all the better. I don’t suppose you fancy coming with me to grab a cold beer and a sandwich or something? The exercise has given me quite an appetite!” and he fixed Blair with an inviting and quizzical look. 

Blair paused for a long moment, ducking his head and biting his lower lip in indecision before responding. True, he had enjoyed the ride much more than he had expected to, and the same went for Jim’s easy companionship. He actually found himself drawn to the other man, and not just in a physical sense. But he was still scared, and it was far too soon to be putting himself or his trust into another’s hands yet, if he ever did again. On the other hand, he was lonely, and it was so tempting to let go of his self-imposed isolation for a few hours. 

Sighing deeply, he raised his eyes to meet Jim’s open and patient gaze, and almost against his will, he nodded in capitulation. “OK, Jim. Thanks” he whispered. “I could do with a beer myself. But I ought to wash up a little first. They won’t want me in the bar area smelling of horses” and he smiled a little, completely unaware of the effect his expression had on Jim. 

As for Jim, the soft smile bathing the beautiful features completely captivated him, and he was certain that this was how Blair would normally look, when not weighed down by his cares and woes. And Jim grew more determined than ever to get to the bottom of the young man’s troubles, and then do something positive to help him. 

His own smile widening in genuine pleasure, he said, “Great! Tell you what; I could probably do with a freshen-up myself, so how about we meet at the bar in say, half an hour? That enough time for you?” and he nodded in satisfaction when Blair agreed.  


\-----------------------  


Fifty-six minutes later Jim sat at the bar nursing a cold microbrew, concern growing that Blair might have changed his mind after all about meeting up. However, just then he felt a warm presence approach, the clean scent tantalising despite a somewhat raised heartbeat. Looking up quickly with a welcoming grin, he saw Blair peek nervously around the bar’s main door, obviously checking out the place before entering. Not wanting to risk his guest bolting in panic at the last moment, Jim raised his hand in a friendly wave and beckoned the younger man over, saying, “Hey, Blair! What can I get you? I’m trying out as many different brews as I can during my stay...” and he indicated the bar stool next to him as Blair approached. 

Visibly straightening, Blair offered a small smile in response, and walked over to the bar to take the seat next to Jim, allowing Jim a few moments to scan and fully appreciate the smaller figure beside him. Blair had obviously had a quick shower, and had pulled his damp hair back into a ponytail, although drying curls were already haloing his freshly shaved face. He had put on a clean pair of well-worn jeans and a blue and black plaid shirt that brought out the deep blue of his eyes, and his worn hiking boots had been hastily scrubbed. All in all he looked good enough to eat, and once again Jim found himself reacting to Blair’s proximity. Shifting in his seat a little to ease the pressure building in his groin, Jim grinned amicably as Blair responded a little diffidently. 

“Hey Jim. Sorry I’m late. I had to do some major cleaning on my boots so’s I didn’t trek horse muck into the building. I don’t think the guests would appreciate the aroma” and he grinned shyly, unconsciously providing Jim with a most appealing vision. 

“No problem, Chief” replied Jim, beckoning to Louisa, who was serving behind the bar again. “You fancy a Rogue Ale?” and when Blair nodded in approval, he turned to the attractive barmaid who had appeared before them, her warm smile directed at Jim. 

“Two Dead Guy Ales please, Louisa!” then, turning back to Blair he added, “I’d never heard of this before Louisa enlightened me, but it’s darned good. Have you tried it already?” 

“Yeah, once or twice, Jim. And I do like it, but I haven’t had any lately” Blair answered quietly, looking faintly uneasy. 

Curiosity piqued, Jim determined to question him further later on when Louisa spoke up, her easy smile now taking on a more predatory quality. 

“There you go” she said, putting the drinks down on the bar. “We don’t see you in here often, Blair” she added, tone saccharine-sweet. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding us!” 

Blair turned pink in embarrassment and ducked his head, muttering, “Um, well, Jim invited me for a drink, is all. I don’t really want to abuse Mo’s generosity, you know?” 

Realising that the barmaid was being deliberately provocative, Jim decided to step in, saying affably, “And a good thing too, Blair! But I really appreciate your joining me for lunch. It’s great to have some real companionship on a vacation like this. Good friends are hard to find!” and he laughed heartily, clapping an astounded Blair on the shoulder even as he registered Louisa’s smirk freeze on her face as her flirtatious attitude cooled rapidly at his implied preferences. 

As her professional mode reasserted itself despite the affront, she offered them a fixed smile, then marched off down the bar to serve another customer, her aggravation barely concealed behind her synthetic charm. 

“Um, I think you’ve just burned your bridges with the female staff here” murmured Blair with a wry grin. “I have to admit that this is the type of resort where uncomplicated relationships abound, but there aren’t usually too many attractive and available single males around. If you were hoping to get lucky, man, I think you’ve blown it!” 

“Good job I wasn’t looking for that, then” replied Jim with a smirk. “Now, how about we get some lunch, then decide what to do this afternoon?” and he fixed Blair with a happy, inquisitive grin, inwardly gratified by his companion’s bemused expression. 

Shaking himself as he fought to regain some sense of equilibrium, Blair finally replied. 

“Er, that sounds good, Jim. The sandwiches and wraps are good value, and freshly made. Mo always insists on local ingredients.... But I have to do some chores this afternoon. I mean, I don’t want to impose on Mo’s generosity. I want to earn my keep, not mooch off him for old times’ sake. So I need to get the horses ready for the afternoon ride, and muck out....” 

“No problem, Chief. I’ll fit in with you” said Jim, not allowing Blair any time to reconsider. 

“Do you like fishing? Because I was thinking of perhaps taking a boat out this evening for an hour or so...” and once again he fixed Blair with a hopeful gaze. 

Feeling pressured, but not unpleasantly so, Blair sighed in resignation before returning Jim’s smile. 

“OK, Big Guy. I’ll be finished around five, so if you really want me to come with you, I guess that’d be alright” and he was almost dumbstruck at the genuine pleasure in Jim’s face.  


\--------------------  


After a companionable lunch, the two men split up so that Blair could return to the stables to do his voluntary chores. Knowing he would have a few hours to himself, Jim collected his gym bag and went to the pool and gym complex where he spent the time working out and then enjoying a swim and a spot of relaxation in the spa bath. Whilst working out, he had plenty of time to think during his sets of repetitions, and he was both pleased and puzzled at the conundrum that was Blair Sandburg. 

Although he still had no idea why, the young man’s presence seemed to settle his wayward senses, such that he had had no problems with sensory spikes since his arrival at the Flying V. He was also very attracted to Blair, and had no problem with the fact that however beautiful he was, the young man was totally masculine. Although he normally dated women, and had even attempted marriage once, Jim had always been open to a buddy fuck to scratch a mutual itch, especially during his spell in the army. It simply was something he kept to himself in the PD, no one’s business but his own. 

Jim was certain that despite Blair’s obvious unease and outright nervousness at times, he was no criminal, gut instinct telling the detective that Sandburg was the victim of some pretty awful incident, hence his desire for anonymity. And the cop in Ellison very much wanted to find out just who was responsible for Blair’s hurt, even as he itched to be the one to do something about it. 

As he relaxed in the spa, he contemplated how to approach Blair that evening, wanting to entice the other man to eat with him after their fishing trip, and really hoping that he could be persuaded to come back to Jim’s cabin for a nightcap. And he promised himself he wouldn’t make any moves on the younger man until Blair gave him the go-ahead – that is, if he wasn’t mistaken by the subtle signals the other man seemed to give off when Jim was near....  


\------------------  


In the horse barn, Blair busied himself with saddling the horses needed for the afternoon beginner’s ride, which this time consisted of a family of four – Mom, Pop and two pre-teen girls – and an elderly couple. Because Pop had never ridden before, and the elderly lady was somewhat nervous, the tour guide asked Blair if he would be willing to accompany them to provide some individual attention where needed. Nodding agreeably, Blair saddled up his favourite palomino and set out, using his innate charm to help the elderly lady to relax. As the gentle ride progressed, the lady “Call me Margery!” and the Pop – Jordan – began to enjoy themselves, responding to his gentle comments and helpful tuition. By the time the ride was over, all the participants were enthusiastically complimentary toward both Blair and the activity, such that they were all genuinely keen on repeating the adventure. Paul the guide was also appreciative, saying, “Thanks for the help, Blair. It’s always good to have extra people when there are real novices out, and Randy’s gone to the store to pick up some feed supplements, so it’s been a great help having you step in” and he patted Blair amicably on the shoulder. 

“No problem, Paul. I really like riding, and teaching is second nature I guess. Anytime, man!” and Blair offered him a radiant smile, which almost left Paul and the guests blinded, blinking at the way his whole face lit up in genuine pleasure. 

After the guests had dispersed, Blair helped unsaddle the horses and rub them down, giving him some time to himself at last to consider how the unexpected and unlooked-for relationship between him and Jim Ellison seemed to be progressing. 

To say that Blair was ambivalent in his feelings towards the big detective would be an understatement, but he couldn’t deny the physical attraction he felt. Jim had thus far been nothing but kind to him, and had made no threats in either words or deeds, yet Blair’s sense of self-preservation still warned him to be on his guard. After all, his experience with Alex had shown him only too clearly that being a Guide to a Sentinel wasn’t necessarily all it was cracked up to be. 

But then again, did he truly believe Alex _was_ a real Sentinel? Everything he had read thus far in all his years of study suggested that Sentinels were protectors: instinctive guardians of their tribes and devoted to their chosen Guides. When he really thought about it, he had never actually felt _protected_ whilst in her company. If anything, he had felt used, even though his infatuation had blinded him to it at the time. And Alex was a hard-nosed and self-confessed criminal. About as far from a tribal guardian as he could imagine, whilst Jim was a cop – the ultimate protector. 

And he felt safe near Jim. He _did_ feel protected, and wanted, despite the fact that they had known each other for mere hours. But he was also afraid. Afraid to believe that any good could come of their relationship even though he found that he wanted it more than anything else. He sighed in exasperation, knowing that the Guide within demanded that he take a chance, while the wounded grad student cowered from the fear of being hurt again. 

And of course, there was the problem of Alex. 

If he was to explain to Jim what being a Sentinel meant, and the man still wanted him, he would have to tell him about Alex, and her threat to come back for him. He would have to own up to his pitiful lack of character judgement in the excitement of finding a Sentinel who ultimately wanted nothing more than the means by which she could expand her criminal activities. How could he do that and expect Jim to respect him? And what if Alex hurt Jim? He’d never forgive himself if that happened, just because he hadn’t got the guts to run away and keep running. 

Still torn by indecision, he completed his stable duties and wandered back to the bunkhouse to freshen up again. If nothing else, he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint Jim by turning down his invitation to go fishing, although whatever followed, he decided he would just have to play by ear....  


\-----------------  


**Later that evening:**  


Jim and Blair walked side by side in the gathering dusk of the early Fall evening, both lost in introspection, but not uncomfortably so. The fishing trip had proved to be a success, allowing both men to enjoy the activity in a companionable almost-silence, neither needing to make unnecessary conversation while the fish were biting. It was only once their time was up that Jim broached the subject of dinner, hoping very much that Blair was at least superficially comfortable enough in his presence to allow them to relax in the restaurant. And after dinner, Jim intended to make his offer of a walk in the grounds followed by a nightcap at his cabin. 

So far his plans had worked out well, and they had both enjoyed their dinner together. Blair had gradually thawed out even more, proving to be an entertaining conversationalist, although reticent about his private life, while Jim found himself telling his new friend more about himself than he ever recalled doing before, even to his ex-wife. And the strange thing was, he didn’t worry about it. Jim Ellison the loner seemed at last to have found someone he genuinely wanted to trust. He just needed Blair to recognise and accept the fact for himself. 

So now they ambled along one of the paths leading to the lake, each having come to a decision, but needing the opportunity to instigate a discussion which had the potential to radically alter their lives. 

At that point, Jim decided to take the bull by the horns, saying, “I’ve really enjoyed your company today, Chief. I have to say that I wasn’t at all sure that this place was right for me, but you’ve made it good - well, better than good! Can I tempt you to come in for a nightcap?” and, when he heard Blair’s heart rate jump at the request, he added hastily, “Don’t worry, Chief. I only mean a beer or a coffee, honestly. I promise not to do anything you don’t want, just talk. I just don’t want tonight to end so soon” and he fixed the smaller man with his most appealing expression. 

After his initial fear response, Blair managed to pull himself together at Jim’s reassuring words, arguing with himself that this was the moment to find out if Ellison was really on the level. Because if he was, then Blair knew for sure he could grow truly fond of the man – and the Sentinel – he wanted Jim to be. And if he proved to be another like Alex, then Blair would just have to suck it up and run away again. 

But gods! How would he survive with two Sentinels on his tail? Now that didn’t bear thinking of. However, firmly stomping down on his anxiety, he raised his head and met Jim’s forthright gaze, unwittingly earning the big man’s admiration when he replied, “OK, Jim. Thanks. That’d be nice, man. Um, I’m sorry I keep jumping at shadows, Big Guy, but there’s something I have to explain. And if you don’t want anything to do with me when you’ve heard what I have to say, then I’ll understand, truly”. 

“Well, _I_ doubt that you can tell me anything I don’t want to hear, Chief. So let’s get back shall we? I’m in cabin number seven, and I have to say it’s really very comfortable” and Jim prattled on, completely out of character, at least as far as his colleagues at the PD were concerned, but determined to put Blair at ease as much as he could for the time being, because he knew for sure that the upcoming talk was going to be a real eye-opener....  


\------------------------  


**That night, Jim’s cabin:**  


Having decided that it was getting too chilly in the night air to sit outside on the deck, Jim settled Blair in one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the open fireplace. As the smaller man looked around him a little nervously, Jim went to his small refrigerator and retrieved two bottles of beer. 

“These aren’t microbrews, I’m afraid, Chief. But I’m sure I’ll be buying some in when I get home. Here you go” and he handed over one to Blair as he took the chair opposite, keeping his smile easy and friendly. Reaching over to clink bottles with Blair he said, “bottoms up, Chief!” and took a long swig. 

After taking a swig of his own, Blair smiled in response, then, face taking on a quizzical expression, he asked, “Why do you keep calling me ‘Chief’ Jim? I mean, it’s nice – and it’s much nicer than most of the nicknames I’ve been called in the past. I just wondered why, you know?” 

“Don’t really know, Blair” replied Jim with a grin. “It’s something a good friend of mine used to call me, so it seemed to fit. As long as you don’t mind?” 

“Nah, man. Not at all” then Blair’s face took on a serious expression as he realised it was time to begin that talk. 

“Uh, I guess I should explain a bit about myself, man” he began a little diffidently. “See, until you know something about where I’m coming from, you won’t know what I mean when I say I think - I _know_ what’s up with you. But it’s hard for me, so can you bear with me while I get this out?” 

And Jim nodded reassuringly, only too glad that the younger man was at last opening up to him, and determined to hear him out, however hard it may turn out to be. 

Taking a deep breath, Blair began to tell Jim about his life of study at Rainier, keeping personal facts to a bare minimum in favour of concentrating on explaining his topic of study for his Master’s thesis and possible dissertation material. 

As he talked, Jim found himself completely focussed, and as enlightenment dawned, he began to feel some real hope. 

“So these Sentinels, Blair. If I’ve understood right, they had heightened senses, and used them to act as tribal watchmen and protectors, am I right? And you’ve already guessed that I seem to be suffering from the same thing, haven’t you?” 

“Um, yeah, man. You see” and here Blair’s face took on a decidedly guilty cast, “I understand that they had a companion – a helpmeet, if you will, who could help ground them so they could use their senses without fear of losing themselves in a zone. A helper who would watch their back and take care of their needs so they could concentrate on protecting the tribe. A Guide, for want of a better word” and here he looked up and met Jim’s earnest gaze, pleading for his understanding. 

And he wasn’t disappointed. 

“And you’re a Guide aren’t you Chief?” breathed Jim, his look of concentration lightening to one of acceptance. “That’s why I felt drawn to you, wasn’t it? I felt so much better all of a sudden, and everything seemed to settle and work properly. I need someone like you....” and he paused for a moment to marshal his thoughts. 

It was a huge relief for Jim to realise that he had found someone who really understood where he was coming from. Someone moreover who didn’t see him as some sort of freak, but instead the embodiment of a tribal protector reincarnated to serve in modern society. However, Blair himself was way more insecure in his own role, suggesting to Jim that something dire had happened to the young man, shattering his dreams and changing them to nightmares. 

Convinced he was on the right track; Jim fixed Blair with a sympathetic gaze, and spoke gently, not wanting to spook the other man any more than he was already. 

“What happened, Blair? What happened to make you give up your life at Rainier and run away? And who made you so afraid, Chief? I only want to help, I promise you.” 

So they had come to the point of no return. Blair knew that he either make his excuses and flee the Flying V, abandoning Jim to his fate, or he come clean and tell the big detective about Alex and his huge mistake. And in all good conscience, he knew he could only do one thing, so, taking a deep cleansing breath, he began. 

“I fucked up, Jim” he whispered, a blush of shame slowly spreading from neck to hairline. “I had been searching for proof that Sentinels still existed, but without any luck, and my diss committee had run out of patience with me. Told me in no uncertain terms that I should change my topic. So I did. I was going to do a study of sub-cultures within services like the PD, Fire Service, that sort of thing. Even arranged for a ride-along pass to observe members of Captain Anderson’s Homicide department. But then I had a visitor. Alex Barnes” and he glanced up to see understanding dawning on Jim’s face. 

“Oh Chief! I remember the case now. Major Crimes weren’t involved – well, they would have been if the perps hadn’t fled to South America – but we all heard about the theft of the Ebola canister. And the student they tried to murder. It was you, wasn’t it, Blair?” 

And ducking his head again, Blair whispered, “Yeah. She fooled me, Jim. She had all the signs of heightened senses, and she had read my Master’s thesis. She wanted me to help her. Guide her. And I fell for it. Hook, line and sinker. I was so excited about finding my Holy Grail that I couldn’t see her for what she was. A criminal, and a user. Not a tribal guardian at all! Gods, I’m so ashamed...” and he tailed off, sure now that Jim would be disgusted at his gullibility. So he was truly surprised to look up again to see that Jim had left his seat and come to squat in front of him, eyes full of care and understanding. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Chief” he began. “How were you to know? You might be an expert in theory, but you’re as much as a novice as me in actually doing the Sentinel and Guide thing. And there’s no denying the bitch is beautiful. Even the blurry security footage I saw told me that. I’m so sorry, babe. So sorry you had to go through that. But for what it’s worth, I’d really like for you to guide me, Blair. I can’t say I’d be that easy to work with – in fact, my Captain and my colleagues would probably want to warn you off – but I wouldn’t do what she did, Chief. I’m a cop, not a villain, and I’d really like to take care of you too. 

“Anyway, I don’t expect an answer right this minute, Chief. Just sleep on it, and believe me when I say I don’t blame you. If you made a mistake, then you paid for it in spades.” 

Unable to prevent his eyes filling with tears of gratitude at Jim’s words, Blair sniffled a bit before he found his voice. 

“Thanks, man. You don’t know what it means to me that you don’t think I’m a complete ass. But you should know that Alex promised she’d be back for me. I don’t think she intended for me to die in that fountain even if Hettinger did. She certainly didn’t love me like I thought I did her, but she wants me. It’s a bit like that old Meatloaf song” he continued wryly. “You know the one. ‘I want you, I need you, but there ain’t no way I’m ever going to love you. So don’t be sad, ‘cos two out of three ain’t bad’” and he chuckled ruefully at the comparison. 

“Then more fool her. And my gain” murmured Jim, reaching forward carefully to cup Blair’s cheek gently, not wanting to frighten him. “Because I think I could go three out of three if you’d give me that chance, babe. But I don’t want to put you under any more pressure right now. How about we just hang out together as much as we can during my stay, and perhaps you can give me some pointers as to how to use my senses?” and he gazed into Blair’s eyes, almost pleading with him to agree. 

And finally, leaning into Jim’s touch, Blair nodded shyly, and said, “Yeah, I can do that. Thanks man. Thanks for not treating me like a fool”. 

“Never, Chief!” replied Jim with feeling. “Now, I suggest that, much as I’d like you to stay with me tonight, I think I should walk you back to the bunkhouse so you can have a bit of privacy to make your choices without me breathing down your neck, OK?” 

And Blair smiled in gratitude at Jim’s thoughtfulness, and nodded in agreement. “That’s really good of you, Jim. Thanks again” and they finished their beers in companionable silence before Jim stood up, holding his hand out to pull Blair to his feet. 

“Come on, Junior. Time all good Guides – and acting stable hands – were in bed” and placing a warm hand at the small of Blair’s back, he escorted the young man back to the bunkhouse where he left him at the door after arranging a time to meet up for breakfast the following morning.  


\-------------------------  


Over the next couple of days Jim and Blair worked together as much as possible at both establishing their personal relationship and measuring and stabilising Jim’s senses. Blair had some good ideas about how to control them during their use, either in isolation or using two together, piggybacking one on top of another. He also came up with a way to re-establish control when they occasionally spiked. 

“If you imagine one of those old radios with dials, label each dial with a sense, then practice turning them up and down...” and despite his initial doubts, Jim was ecstatic to find that the idea really worked. 

However, he was quick to note that they functioned even better when Blair touched him. Not only that, but he actually felt a tingle, almost like a tiny electric current every time they came into physical contact, proof positive as far as he was concerned that Blair was indeed his true Guide. He refrained from mentioning it for the time being, however, wanting to wait until Blair was less wary and more relaxed in his acceptance of his place at Jim’s side. 

They didn’t spend all their time working on the senses, however, as Blair still wanted to help out in the stables, and they both enjoyed participating in some of the available activities together. They arranged with Mo to go riding and fishing together, and the older man made it very clear that he approved of their growing friendship. He had been very concerned over Blair’s state of mind on arrival, especially as he remembered only too well the bouncing, inquisitive boy who had visited years ago. If Jim succeeded in helping to restore the young man’s love for life, then who was he to disagree? 

Nevertheless, as he said to the pair with a grin, “I hate to think what your Mom would say if she knew what’s been going on, Blair! Not only have I turned this place into a commercial enterprise, but I’ve actively encouraged you to get friendly with a ‘pig’! If she ever finds out, she’ll be burning bonfires of sage trying to cleanse my aura!” and Jim and Blair laughed aloud at his wry humour. 

Not everyone was quite so accepting, though, and Mo’s daughter Jan was markedly less amiable towards them, her demeanour now coolly polite and professional. 

“I think she really wanted to get to know you, Jim” Blair was driven to comment. “I overheard her talking to Louisa when you arrived, and she mentioned how attractive you are. And they both agreed how nice it was to have an eligible single man visiting for a change. I don’t think either of them’ll forgive you for getting friendly with a short, hairy, nerdy Jew-boy!” and he giggled at the thought. 

Although he chuckled in response, Jim couldn’t help but wonder at his new friend’s lack of self-esteem. He vowed to himself that he’d make sure to work on getting Blair to see himself as he really was – a beautiful soul, inside and out. 

“Well, I’m not at all disappointed, Chief!” he replied, clapping the smaller man heartily on the shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve gotten the best deal!” and he smiled to see Blair’s answering blush of pleasure. 

It was inevitable, however, that their few days of carefree enjoyment would be brought to a close, as Fate certainly hadn’t finished with them just yet, and their peace was about to be shattered in the worst way.  


\---------------------  


It was nearing the end of Jim’s first week at the Flying V when he awoke feeling positively out of sorts for the first time since encountering Blair. As usual, he was alone, as Blair was still wary of committing himself too soon, still unsure as to whether he felt safe enough – and confident enough in their relationship – to return to Cascade with Jim once Jim’s vacation was over. Although he could understand where Blair was coming from, and was trying hard not to pressurise the younger man into making a snap decision, Jim had to admit to a growing feeling of impatience on his part as he had certainly made up his own mind as to where his Guide belonged, and that was at his side. 

This morning, however, had nothing to do with that, as much as a sense of impending disaster, although he had absolutely no idea where the notion was coming from. Dressing hurriedly, he quickly made his way over to the main building to meet Blair for breakfast as usual, a sense of urgency driving him to check up on the younger man, sure that the almost tangible danger was directed at his Guide. 

Joining Blair at their preferred table, Jim was profoundly relieved to find the younger man perfectly fit and well, but was still stricken with a deep desire to grab his Guide and run, back to his territory where they could hole up and he could keep Blair safe. 

As soon as he sat down, Blair realised immediately that something was up, and his cheerful welcoming smile morphed to a worried frown. 

“Are you OK, Jim? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Is there something wrong?” and he was both hurt and surprised when Jim snapped, “Not now, Sandburg! Look, I’m not bothered about breakfast right now, so how about we go back to the cabin? We can have something there...” 

When Blair’s hurt expression changed to a mutinous pout, Jim continued, his voice quiet but forceful. “I don’t have time to sooth your hurt feelings right now, Chief. Just come with me now, and I’ll try to explain, OK? I just don’t feel right being out in the open, even with people around us. Perhaps it’s a Sentinel thing? I don’t know, but just _come with me!”_

Still irritated at the detective’s domineering attitude, but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, particularly if Jim’s instincts were involved, Blair somewhat reluctantly got to his feet and was a little startled when Jim wrapped a possessive arm around his waist and almost propelled him out of the restaurant and hurried him towards the cabin. 

“Slow down, man! Where’s the fire?” he gasped in a nervous attempt at humour. When Jim did nothing more than grunt in response, he tried to dig his heels in. “Stop, Jim! You’re frightening me...come on, man, let go...let me _go!”_ but to no avail. If Jim had had to throw the smaller man over his shoulder he would have done so rather than leave Blair alone right then. Realising by Jim’s angry and resolute expression that arguing would get him nowhere, Blair was forced to give in and allow himself to be dragged the rest of the way to the cabin even though he could feel the onset of an imminent panic attack. 

Once inside Jim’s cabin, the Sentinel did a rapid perimeter check, locking the doors and even pulling the blinds to before relaxing minutely, enough to really look at his Guide. Horrified to see the fear on Blair’s face, and hear the panicked breaths he closed the distance between them and took the smaller man in his arms, hugging him closely and rubbing Blair’s back with a large but gentle hand. 

“Sssh, babe, Sssh!” he murmured. “I’m sorry I frightened you, Blair. It’s just that I feel I need to keep you close – to protect you – but from what, I have no idea! Come on now, babe, calm, deep breaths, OK?” and he kept up his soothing back rub as he guided Blair towards the loveseat, sitting down with the smaller man virtually on his lap. 

As Blair’s panic attack gradually receded and he began to relax into Jim’s embrace, Jim used the contact to ground himself while he stretched out his senses, needing to pinpoint the source of the threat. But neither of them had any way of knowing that what he was experiencing was the territorial reaction to the approach of a rogue Sentinel – one who wanted to challenge Jim for ownership of the Guide.  


\-----------------------  


Even as Jim mentally prepared himself to batten down the hatches in preparation for the unknown threat, a hire car negotiated the last few miles to the Flying V. The driver divided his attention between the road and his passenger, who stared angrily out of the side window, shuddering every so often with slight muscular spasms and occasionally reaching a manicured finger under the cuffs of her expensive sweater to scratch at the irritated skin beneath. 

Carl and Alison Burton, also known as Carl Hettinger and Alex Barnes, had a reservation at the Oregon resort, but with no intention of enjoying the facilities on offer there. Their plan was simple, and their target clear. Alex wanted her Guide back, and there was nothing Carl could say or do to persuade her otherwise, so despite his reservations, he knew he had to comply with her demands or leave. And knowing Alex as he did he wasn’t at all sure he would ever be allowed to do that and live. 

The past six months hadn’t been easy for Alex, and her patience had run out, her need for her Guide overwhelming. After making their escape from Cascade, she and Carl had fled to their South American destination, intending to sell the canister of Ebola virus to the drug lord who had hired them, and then travel on to their retreat on Italy’s Amalfi Coast to hole up for a while until the heat died down and they could plan their next job. 

Unfortunately for them, the drug lord had been sold out to the police and the military by an inside informant, and the meet was ambushed. The drug lord was gunned down resisting arrest, and Alex and Carl escaped by the skin of their teeth, unhurt but also unpaid, and extremely angry. 

They travelled on to Rio de Janeiro, and hid there for some time before moving on, but all the while Alex’s senses grew more and more difficult to control, even using the techniques Blair had taught her. It was more and more obvious to Alex that she needed her Guide’s physical presence, and she was determined to get him back. In all honesty, she wasn’t interested in him for himself – all he had ever been to her was a tool for her use – but she recognised that his voice and touch had worked miracles with her wayward senses, and she was compelled to make him hers again whether he wanted it or not. 

Once back in the States under yet another alias, it had taken the interim weeks to track Blair down, but Alex had been unstoppable as she focussed on the search, and had finally traced Blair to the Flying V. And that was where she intended to take him back. 

True, she knew she had made a huge mistake leaving him behind at Rainier, but then, he shouldn’t have tried to run. She had been concerned for a while that Carl had actually succeeded in drowning the young man, but her instinct told her that he had survived. She was convinced that she would have sensed it if he had died. And now she could feel his presence more and more keenly as they travelled the last leg of their journey, her expression growing more predatory as the miles passed by.  


\----------------  


Arriving at their destination, and parking up near the main building in order to check in, Carl climbed out of the car and came around to open Alex’s door. As soon as she stepped out, he watched in fascination as her head whipped up and she swung round to face the group of guest cabins off to the right. 

“You OK, Alex?” he hissed. “What can you sense?” 

“He’s here all right. But he’s not alone. Shit! There’s something...something _odd_ about his companion. I don’t know...” and her forehead knotted in a frown of consternation. 

“Look, let’s get checked in, then we can figure out how we’re going to do this, OK? If the runt’s got a friend, it won’t be so easy to grab him and run, will it? Let’s do this right, Alex. We don’t need any more trouble right now. Come on...” and he took her arm, intending to lead her into the reception area. 

Swinging back round to face him, Alex snarled; “Take your hand off me unless you want to lose it! _I_ decide what we do and how we do it, Carl! Don’t forget who’s got the senses here. And the brains!” she added nastily. And even though it angered him to be spoken to in that manner, Carl knew that for the time being at least it was in his best interest to stick with her. 

Nodding in reluctant compliance, he relaxed his grip on her arm and attempted a smile instead as he answered, “Sure, Alex. Whatever you say. Shall we go get checked in then?” and he was relieved when she nodded curtly and strode up to the main entrance, where her demeanour changed chameleon-like to one of vapid amiability, for all the world like a besotted newly-wed. 

Inwardly applauding her acting ability, Carl walked up to the reception desk and introduced himself to Jan, who was once again on duty there. 

“Good morning, er, Jan” he said affably, making a point of reading her name tag. Mr and Mrs Burton. We have a reservation?”   


\----------------------  


As the pair checked in, back in the cabin Jim was growing antsier by the minute; his aggression barely contained as he stretched out with his hearing and listened in to the new arrivals’ conversation. 

With Blair gripping his sleeve anxiously, he almost growled as he whispered their comments into Blair’s ear, already knowing how his Guide was going to react. Pulling the smaller man into the bathroom he turned on the shower to mask their conversation, and immediately the young man burst out, “Oh man! She found me! It’s Alex, Jim. I’m so sorry. I really hoped she’d gone for good, but I was afraid she’d decide she wanted me back after all. Oh gods! I can’t, man. I just can’t!” 

“It’s OK, Chief. She’ll have to get through me before she can take you, babe. I’m not letting you go now I’ve found you. And even if she’s got heightened senses like you say, she’s still unguided, Blair. She won’t beat me, babe, I promise!” 

Blair heard and appreciated his words, but he was still deeply worried. After all, he’d seen Alex and Carl in action, and he was terrified that working together they might just get the drop on Jim. And he had no confidence in his own ability to fight and resist should the worst come to the worst, never having learned more than a few basic moves for self defence purposes only. Neither did he want anyone else to be hurt on his account, so he supposed they would just have to wait until the intruders made their move. But then again, he pleaded urgently, “Should we call Mo and let him know what’s happening, Jim? Or the police? I mean, now we know they’re here, we can call for backup can’t we?” 

“Not yet, Blair. I think they’ll make their move very soon, but I’m sure they don’t know that I’m a Sentinel – that I’ve been tracking them and know what they plan to do. So for now we have the advantage. And it’ll take time for the local police to get here, even if they believe our story. But don’t worry, Chief. We’ll call in the cavalry as soon as we have something concrete to run with.” And for now Blair had to be content with that.  


\-----------------  


For the next few hours an obscure variation of cat and mouse continued, with Alex and Carl surreptitiously checking out the cabin’s occupants and location under the guise of exploring the resort, while Jim monitored their progress from within, grounded by Blair’s soothing touch. The constant effort of reaching out with his senses was great, however, and eventually Jim was forced to pull back for a while to ease the pressure of the pounding headache that threatened to overwhelm him. With Blair rubbing his temples with gentle fingers, he slumped back in his armchair and sighed in relief as the pain gradually abated. 

With the water running again, he murmured, “Sorry, babe. Even with your help the senses were getting over-stretched. But for what it’s worth, I think our observers are taking a few minutes to regroup in the restaurant over lunch. I’ll be OK to listen in again soon.” 

Voice coloured by the guilt pressing down on him, Blair replied, “Oh Jim, I’m so sorry you’re hurting, and because of me. I know you only want to protect me, but I want to protect you too! I’ll never forgive myself if you get hurt defending me. And you must have the headache from Hell!” 

Reaching up to trap the busy fingers in his warm hand, Jim smiled softly as he said, “Don’t, babe. Don’t feel guilty. I choose to be here with you, just as I’ve chosen you to be my Guide. All I need to know is that you’ll come back to Cascade with me once all this is over, and I’ll be one very happy Sentinel. And if you move in with me, and be my partner in life also, I’ll be an even happier man” he finished in a sultry tone. 

Blair blushed deeply, so very close to agreeing with Jim’s choices, when the internal telephone rang, startling them both out of their brief peaceful interlude. 

“Oh gods, it’s probably Paul checking up on me” muttered Blair. “I’m supposed to be helping him out on this afternoon’s beginner’s ride. He must be wondering where I’ve got to.” 

Patting the anxious Guide on the shoulder, Jim quickly answered the call, and listened for a moment before replying, “Yeah, Paul. He’s here with me. Look, I’m sorry, Paul, I should have called earlier. He’s not very well, I’m afraid. Yeah, some sort of tummy bug I think. He’s not in any condition to ride today though. Can you give your guests our apologies? Thanks, man. Yeah, will do” and he put the phone down. 

“Guess you got the gist of that, Chief? He’s not mad at you, don’t worry. Just sounds genuinely concerned, and hopes you feel better soon. But you know, this could work to our advantage. If Alex and Carl think you’re not well, because I’m damned sure she’ll have been listening in to Paul’s end of our conversation, she’ll probably think you’ll be easier to snatch. And hopefully she’ll think that I’ll be concentrating on looking after you, and not be on my guard.” 

“I hope you’re right, Jim. I just want this to be over with, so I can come home to Cascade. With you...” Blair added Sentinel-soft, praying he wasn’t making another mistake. 

His answer lay in the beaming smile that brightened Jim’s face as he hugged the stuffing out of the smaller man for long moments. 

“Thank you, babe. Thank you for putting your trust in me. I’ll do everything I can to prove that I mean what I say” and Jim dropped a quick kiss on Blair’s brow before pushing the other man away enough to smile down at him, loving the budding hope and affection in the deep blue gaze. 

“But now I’m ready to start concentrating again” he said, game face back in place. “The sooner they make their move, the sooner we can finish this!” and as Blair turned the running water off again, he took his seat, but looped an arm around Blair’s waist so they could maintain their close contact while he opened his senses of scent and hearing out to their maximum extent. 

Despite his anxiety, Blair looked on with pride and admiration as Jim cocked his head in a classic ‘listening’ pose, wide-eyed gaze fixed on Jim’s face when the other man reported back what he had heard, whispering almost sub-vocally. 

“I think it’s going to be tonight, babe. They’ve gone back to their suite in the main building to rest up. By what she’s been saying, Alex is hurting badly, and needs to recoup her strength for a while. I think her clothes are really irritating her, and she’s got a headache. She can’t understand why she can’t hear much of our conversation, but she doesn’t seem to think that it’s a deliberate evasion on our part, just that her hearing’s on the fritz without a Guide’s grounding touch. I’m sure she believes that she’s the only Sentinel here, and I’m just some meddling interloper. Under any other circumstances, I’d actually sympathise with her” he added grimly. “But right now, I hope she’s hurting like hell. She doesn’t deserve a Guide’s help – _any_ Guide!” he grated savagely. “And definitely not mine!” and he pulled Blair closer again. 

As he nestled his head against Jim’s broad shoulder, Blair decided that he liked the sound of that after all. Who’d have thought? The fiercely independent grad student actually accepting the notion of belonging to another! What would Naomi say...? And despite the seriousness of the situation, he actually grinned a little, and pushed his face deeper into Jim’s neck.  


\---------------------  


As the hours dragged on, the two men’s levels of anticipation, and, at least in Blair’s case, outright anxiety, continued to rise, even though the actual monitoring was less tiring for Jim. This was because Alex and Carl remained in their room for most of the afternoon, conversation virtually non-existent now as Alex obviously needed the time to rest and regain her strength, so that Jim only needed to check in periodically. 

Fortifying themselves with gallons of coffee, snacks and a lot of cuddles, Jim and Blair played the waiting game with as much patience as possible, trying hard to bolster each other’s confidence while the seemingly interminable afternoon crawled towards evening and nightfall. 

As luck would have it, there was hardly any moon that night, which normally would have played straight into Alex’s hands. But she hadn’t reckoned on one of her prey being a Sentinel also, as strong if not stronger than herself, so the lack of visibility posed no problem to those waiting inside the cabin. 

When dinner time came around, Jim heard the pair leave their room, intending to eat first, then, under the guise of taking a romantic after-dinner stroll around the grounds, they would slip into the woods behind Jim’s cabin in order to change into the black clothing already stashed there before lunch. Since they hadn’t unpacked, or even taken their luggage out of the car, which was now conveniently parked in the lower parking lot next to the exit, all they needed to do was break in to the cabin, eliminate Jim and snatch Blair before escaping into the night. 

Knowing what was planned, Jim and Blair had kept their own communication superficial and mundane, hoping to lull Alex into a false sense of security. Keeping up the pretence of normality was hard though, and wearing on Blair’s emotions such that he trembled in Jim’s arms when the detective reeled him in for comforting hugs. 

He made no complaint, though, and Jim respected his fortitude, his own determination to protect his Guide at all costs increasing in response.  


\----------------------------  


At exactly 10.45 pm, Jim tracked Alex and Carl’s progress through the grounds to the woods behind the cabin. Listening carefully even as Blair chattered on inconsequentially, hand clutching Jim’s forearm to ground the Sentinel, Jim heard the rustling of clothing being donned and smelled the tang of gun oil as weapons were checked and holstered. Nodding to Blair as he indicated the direction from which the intruders were approaching, he quickly positioned the smaller man behind the kitchen counter, where Blair squatted down to wait for the imminent attack, heart hammering in his chest. 

Using all his skill from his years in covert ops, Jim made ready for the attack, which he discerned would be coming from two directions – the side window furthest from the main complex, and the rear French doors. Concentrating hard, he listened for the tell-tale sounds of a glass cutter used to facilitate entry, and was ready to move the instant Carl Hettinger dived through the opened window, gun in hand and rolling to his feet to take aim at Jim. However, before he even registered that his intended victim was alert to his entrance, he was brought down by a hard kick to the chest, which winded and sent him to the floor. But even as Jim administered a stunning blow to Carl’s unprotected skull, he was stopped in his tracks by a chance item he had failed to factor in: a simple dose of pepper spray. 

While Carl had been making his spectacularly unsuccessful entrance, Alex had been making her own quieter one through the French doors, already aware that her Guide was hiding behind the kitchen counter. Confident that Carl could take care of the interloper, she used her left hand to pull out the pepper spray with which she intended to subdue Sandburg. However, suddenly realising that her plans had been thwarted and that Carl was out of action, her finger accidentally depressed the button on the spray canister slightly as she raised the 9 mm semi-auto in her right hand, looking for a clear shot at Jim. 

And she was momentarily astounded at the effects her unintentional action had had on the big man. At that distance, it shouldn’t have been enough to make Jim sneeze, but instead he reacted as if he had inhaled toxic waste, gasping and gagging as the tiny amount of spray burned his nasal passages and temporarily blinded as his eyes instantly teared up. 

Having herself taken the precaution of donning a protective face mask, Alex muttered “Well, good god! You’re a Sentinel also, aren’t you, you bastard! And you thought you could rob me of my Guide! No wonder you were ready and waiting for us! Well, it won’t do you any good, my friend. I can kill a Sentinel as easily as any other threat” and she coolly raised her weapon to take aim. 

Just then, a blur of movement shot past her as Blair threw himself into the path of the bullet intended to pierce Jim’s defenceless heart. Reacting with the instinctive need to protect his Sentinel, Blair felt the sickening thud of the blow to his upper back and shoulder which slammed him into Jim’s chest, and then an indescribable pain flooded through him as he whimpered and slid to the floor, unaware of the bracing hands of his horrified partner. 

With a primal roar, and fully functioning again, shock having over-ridden the effects of the spray, Jim threw himself at the female Sentinel who was temporarily distracted, staring in dismay at the damage her bullet had done to her Guide. The ensuing struggle was brief and savage but conclusive, as Jim snapped Alex’s neck with his bare hands before spinning back to cradle Blair’s limp body into his arms. 

Quickly feeling for a pulse, and mightily relieved to find one beating steadily but rapidly in the beautiful but blood-spattered neck, Jim reached for the dish cloths on the nearby counter top to use to staunch the blood flowing freely from the entrance and exit wounds high up in Blair’s back and chest. 

“Come on, baby, keep breathing for me” pleaded Jim as he pressed down on the towels with one hand whilst dialling reception with the other. 

When the internal phone was answered after one ring, he succinctly explained the situation, demanding the emergency services and police presence. To his intense gratitude, Jan’s businesslike voice assured him she would call immediately, and minutes after he terminated the call, Jim opened the door to admit both Mo and Jan, who had had First Aid training and was ready and willing to help. 

Between Jan and Jim, they managed to reduce Blair’s blood loss to a trickle, but the young man was very shocky, and barely conscious. As the air ambulance arrived, landing in the nearby paddock as directed by Mo, Blair’s eyes flickered open for a brief moment and he smiled slightly at Jim. 

“My Sentinel! Safe...Love you...” he breathed, before his eyes rolled up in his head as he passed out again. 

Clutching Blair’s hand, a distraught Jim more or less ignored the activity around him as the EMTs burst into the cabin. Moving aside just enough to allow the medics to work on Blair without actually letting go if his hand, Jim kept up a gentle litany of encouragement and endearments, stroking the soft skin beneath his fingers and almost losing himself in the warmth of the life within. 

Meanwhile, Alex was pronounced dead at the scene, and one of the medics checked Carl over, but not before Mo had the forethought to restrain the man as a precaution. 

As Blair was stabilised and prepared for transportation, the Sheriff arrived, accompanied by two of his deputies, demanding to be brought up to speed on events so far. It was Mo once again who came to the rescue, running interference while Jim managed to board the helicopter with his Guide despite the crew’s disapproval, promising the Sheriff that Jim would give a statement as soon as he was assured of his friend’s condition. And the disgruntled lawman just had to be satisfied with that for the time being.  


\-------------------------  


**Early morning, Mercy Hospital, Eugene, OR:**  


Several hours later, a tired and beard-stubbled Jim sat beside the bed of the man who had become the centre of his universe. He carefully monitored every nuance of Blair’s condition, much calmer now that he had been assured that the young man was stable and out of danger. For sure, it had been a fraught few hours while Blair was admitted and then whisked off to OR for emergency surgery, but Jim was now able to relax slightly, knowing that his Guide was enjoying a natural, healing sleep at last. 

Gently stroking the smaller hand beneath his own, he recalled the night’s activities, ruefully aware that for a while he had been almost out of control, his anxiety over Blair excruciating.  


\-----------------------------  


On arrival at the hospital, he had stayed at Blair’s side for as long as possible, but eventually he had been forced to cool his heels in the waiting room as Blair was rushed down to the OR. Whilst there, he was rescued from zoning on the effort to listen in to his Guide’s progress only by the arrival of Mo, who had driven over as fast as possible to check on his young friend and to ensure that said young friend’s new companion kept out of trouble. 

“Hey, Jim. Calm down, man. I know how worried you are, and I am too, but you won’t do Blair any good getting yourself admitted for being catatonic.” At Jim’s distracted but incredulous glance, he had continued, smiling wryly as he said, “Yes, I know what you are, Jim. Blair didn’t have to tell me, you know. I remember only too well being enlightened on the subject of people with enhanced senses by that young man. Even at an early age, he was fascinated by the notion that they might still exist. I guess I realised well before Naomi did that it wouldn’t be long until he settled down at some University or other to pursue his dreams” and here his eyes took on a slightly wistful look. 

“I really liked Naomi, you know. She was a beautiful woman – still is, I suspect – but not really that maternal, you know? I mean, she loved Blair, but wasn’t really interested in what he said – more like interested that other folks should appreciate her clever boy so she could bask in his charisma, you know? And she was always on the move, you know? Seeking spiritual enlightenment, and breaking hearts as she went. ‘Detaching with love’ she called it. Not much comfort to those she left behind, though” he added sadly, leaving Jim in no doubt that one of the broken hearts had been Mo’s. 

Distracted from his own woes by Mo’s gentle comments, Jim sat down and gazed at the older man, interested in what he had to say, and grateful to find someone else who obviously loved Blair also. 

“You know” he replied thoughtfully, “Although we talked almost non-stop these last few days, come to think of it, it was all about me, or how Blair’s studies could help me. He didn’t really tell me anything about himself at all. Just that he started at Rainier at some incredibly early age and had been there ever since.” 

“Sounds about right” chuckled Mo in response. “That young man has absolutely no idea of how much people love him. I think that’s partly Naomi’s fault as well. Blair probably looked at all the conquests she made so effortlessly, and assumed that he was just an encumbrance. A beloved one to be sure, but not worthy on his own account.” 

“Then I’m just going to have to make sure he sees himself differently from now on, aren’t I?” murmured Jim. “Thanks, Mo. Thanks for keeping me sane and for telling me more about my Guide. Because I intend to keep him now I’ve got him!” 

“That’s good enough for me, Jim. Now, I think we’re about to get some news...” but Jim was way ahead of him, having already picked up the approach of a tired-looking man in blood-stained scrubs making his way towards them. 

“Are you here for Blair Sandburg?” he asked, looking from one to the other. Receiving their affirmative nods he continued, “I’m Dr Carson. I’ve just finished up Mr Sandburg’s surgery. Let’s sit down for a moment, and I’ll fill you in, OK? I understand that you, Detective Ellison, are taking responsibility for Mr Sandburg?” 

“Yes, Doctor Carson. I was trying to protect him when he was shot, taking the bullet meant for me,” and he ducked his head for a second, shame-faced at the admission. 

“Well, as to that, Detective, it’s a good job Mr Sandburg is a good few inches shorter than you. A bullet meant to penetrate your heart took Mr Sandburg much higher in the left arm and shoulder, passing straight through the muscle and exiting high up from the left chest, breaking a rib on the way but missing vital organs. It means that although there is significant tissue damage, and the broken bone of course, with a lot of care and some physical therapy, I don’t see why he shouldn’t make a full recovery. It was touch and go for a moment on the operating table, because of shock and blood loss, but he’s stable now, and will be moved to a private room shortly. You can sit with him if you insist on staying, but you’ll have to clean up first” he continued, eyeing up Jim’s bloodstained clothing. “I’ll see if I can’t get the nurse to rustle up a set of scrubs for you”, and he stood, shaking their hands before leaving to treat his next patient, Jim’s heart-felt thanks ringing in his ears. 

Turning to Mo in relief, Jim murmured, “Thank God he’s going to be OK. Now I guess I’d better ring my Captain to explain why his detective is about to be questioned regarding Barnes’ death. I’m supposed to be on vacation sorting myself out in peace and tranquillity!” and he huffed in sardonic self-mockery. 

And Mo, knowing that the Sheriff was already here and waiting to take Jim’s statement, clapped him on the shoulder, suggesting that he take a shower first. “You’ll feel much better for it son, and then you’ll be ready to go to Blair as soon as he’s settled.” And Jim nodded in appreciation of the man’s thoughtfulness, and left to do just that.  


\---------------------  


Shifting in his seat at Blair’s beside in an attempt to stretch his long legs, Jim smiled grimly as he replayed his telephone conversation with Simon Banks, having dragged the man out of bed. 

“What do you mean, you’re about to be questioned for killing a suspect with your bare hands? Jeez, Ellison, can’t you even go on vacation without getting into trouble? What the hell were you doing to get into that situation?” and Jim had been forced to hold the handset away from his ear at the angry yell. 

“Well, see, Simon – Captain, Sir – it’s something that’s going to take some ‘splainin, and I don’t think this is the right time. Can you just trust me that I’ll tell you everything once I get back to Cascade? Because I’m hoping there won’t be any problem like keeping me in custody, as long as you’ll vouch for me, Simon” he said hopefully, praying that his Captain would back him up even if he didn’t like it. 

“Only you, Ellison, could get me up in the middle of the night to give you a character reference for the local law” the other man growled. “OK, tell the Sheriff I’ll be happy to speak to him. But I want to know _everything_ as soon as you get back, hear me?” and Jim was almost overwhelmed by relief and gratitude at the words. 

Just then, a slight change in respiratory patterns, and an elevated heartbeat warned Jim that his Guide was on the verge of waking up. Maintaining his gentle stroking of Blair’s hand, he waited patiently for the big blue eyes to open as the young man sighed and then winced as his injuries made themselves known. 

“Oh man,” he whispered. “Did I get hit by a speeding truck? Everything hurts!” 

“Nah, baby – a speeding bullet,” replied Jim gently. “What were you thinking of, Blair? Why would you jump in front of a bullet meant for me?” 

Obviously still very groggy, it took Blair some minutes to consider Jim’s words, but when he answered, it was with devastating Sandburgian-style logic. 

“But I had to, Jim! You’re a Sentinel – you’re special. I couldn’t let you be killed. Society needs you! And I couldn’t bear it if you died....” 

“Oh baby! But what about you? What makes you think you’re not special too?” 

“Because I’m just a grad student, Jim. One who knows about Sentinels, for sure, but still just a student.” 

“When I get you back to Cascade, Junior, we’re going to work on that lack of self-esteem” Jim replied lovingly. “But for now, I just want you to rest up so we can get you out of here. I’ve already told the staff here about my army medical training, so if it’s what you want, I’ll get them to release you into my care. How’s that sound?” 

“It sounds perfect, Jim. Just perfect...” and Blair lost his battle with sleep, and drifted off again, safe in the knowledge that his Sentinel stood watch over him – the nightmare at an end.  


\----------------------  


**Part 3: Dreams that come true:**  


**Three months later: The Loft, 852 Prospect, Cascade, WA:**  


Jim puttered around the kitchen preparing the spaghetti sauce he knew Blair loved, and wanting to give his flatmate a treat. Glancing around contentedly, Jim once again pondered on how his Spartan loft now looked and felt like a proper home. He decided that it wasn’t just the books and artefacts dotted around the place, or even the fairly gruesome tribal masks leering at him from the walls, but was more to do with the owner of said artefacts. Blair’s very presence lightened his life, even though Jim pretended to grumble about the younger man’s tendency to cheerfully clutter every available surface given the opportunity, and Jim’s pristine bathroom frequently looked like a disaster area. No, such faults were minor indeed in comparison to the happiness Blair dispensed liberally and unconsciously, his love for humanity and a certain Sentinel in particular unquenched despite his recent trauma. 

And best of all, he was the perfect Guide for Jim, grounding him with his voice and touch, and totally dedicated to his role as companion and helpmeet. 

It didn’t hurt that they were also life-partners, although that was a slightly more recent development. 

Smiling with self-satisfaction as he stirred the sauce, Jim thought back over the past few weeks, contemplating how much his life had changed for the better.  


\-----------------------  


When Blair had been released from the hospital in Eugene, Jim had been both surprised and extremely grateful to find that his father had laid on a private helicopter to whisk the pair back to Cascade as quickly and comfortably as possible. Apparently Mo Sutcliffe had called him, and explained in some detail what had happened, and also stressed how important the young man was to Jim. Wanting to build on the tentative relationship he and Jim had begun, William was only too pleased to offer his help and support in whatever way he could. He had also arranged to have both Jim and Blair’s vehicles transported back to Cascade, which both men very much appreciated. 

His smile now slightly amused, Jim recalled what his father had said when Jim asked him outright what he thought of his son pursuing a deeper sexual relationship with Blair once the younger man had healed, both physically and mentally. 

“I’ve spent far too long analysing what went wrong between us, Jimmy, and I know very well that most of the fault was mine. I didn’t give you or Stevie a chance to get over your mother’s leaving, just wanted you both to toughen up and be like me – hard-nosed and successful businessmen. I’m sorry for not being the Dad you both needed, but if this young man can help you with your senses and provide you with the love and support you deserve, then I’m not going to judge you. And if you two do decide to - um – get together like that, I won’t say anything. But I don’t need to know any details, OK?” and he had chuckled, somewhat embarrassed, but conspicuously pleased when Jim joined in. 

And to be fair, William had been as good as his word, coming through for Blair when he had re-applied to Rainier to re-enter the doctoral programme. As a close personal friend of the Dean, William had helped persuade the man to take Blair back, explaining why the grad student had been forced to act as he had. After all, there was considerable sympathy on campus for the young man anyway following his drowning, so although he couldn’t be reinstated as a Teaching Fellow until the new academic year, at least his dissertation committee were prepared to look on his reappearance favourably, now they knew why he had run. 

His expression growing fond, Jim thought that in all honesty, William didn’t have to do too much persuading. His little Guide seemed to have the knack of charming the birds from the trees, so it was hardly surprising that, given his popularity as a teacher, his formidable intellect and his incredible work output, he got away with little more than a reprimand, and a lecture from Eli Stoddard on controlling his impetuosity – as if _that_ would ever happen. 

And look how he had won his way into the hearts of the MCU personnel....  


\-----------------------  


Jim frowned a little now as he recalled the immediate aftermath of the ‘Barnes debacle’. 

As it had turned out, there had been remarkably few repercussions for Jim or Blair, thanks to some very creative tap-dancing on Simon’s part on their behalf. Coupled with the prolific evidence of Alex Barnes’ criminal activities both at home and abroad, the local Sheriff’s department and Cascade PD’s Internal Affairs deemed his action to be justified, Jim acting in self-defence and also to protect an innocent civilian. 

As far as Hettinger was concerned, he had escaped with a couple of cracked ribs and a serious concussion, but in view of the fact that he was going to be very much in demand to stand trial in several countries, it was highly unlikely that either Jim or Blair would ever be required to testify against him. It was even less likely that he would ever see the outside of a prison cell block again should he manage to avoid the death penalty. 

On the other hand, Simon had taken a good deal of convincing before he accepted the whole Sentinel deal, and Blair’s part in it. A couple of days after their return to Cascade, Jim had invited his Captain over to the loft to meet Blair, and to put him in the picture regarding his senses, and to work out how they proposed to deal with the situation. 

Although initially nervous and obviously in a fair amount of pain, Blair had impressed Simon with his knowledge and devotion to Jim even after such a short acquaintance, his words steeped in conviction as he warmed to his theme. Jim had been both proud and humbled: proud of his Guide’s courage and humbled to think that he inspired such love and dedication in the younger man. 

“So, Mr Sandburg, you’re saying that Jim here has the same heightened senses as your tribal watchmen. Why would we need such people in modern society? Surely Jim could turn them off now he knows what they’re all about.” 

“It’s Blair, please. And yes, Jim is a watchman, or Sentinel. But firstly, Captain, I don’t think he _can_ turn them off. I think that now he’s ‘online’ so to speak, his latent gifts are now his to use for benefit of the tribe, whether it’s a pre-industrialised aboriginal group in the South American rainforest, or the people of Cascade” and here he turned to smile warmly at Jim, eyes full of admiration. 

“And as for modern society – well, think of it, Sir! Jim’s as good as a walking, organic crime lab! He can overhear conversations at a distance without the need of a directional mic; he can smell powder residue, explosives or drugs and such with ease, and with his sight, I’m certain he’ll be able to spot trace evidence at a crime scene even better than the CSIs. The only downside is that he needs a partner who understands what’s going on, and who knows how to help ground him so he can use the senses freely, without worrying about zoning or debilitating sensory spikes.” 

Nodding thoughtfully, Simon paused for a while before replying. “OK, Jim, Mr – Blair – if what you say is true, and I’m beginning to believe it is, or, at least I believe that _you_ both believe it. I’m going to have to assign you a partner immediately, Jim. I know you and Megan strike sparks off each other, but how about Joel? He’s a good man, and you’ve worked with him before--” 

“Um, no, Simon” Jim interrupted quickly. “It’s not quite as simple as that. You see, what Blair hasn’t told you is that Sentinels require more than just a work partner. We need someone we can trust completely – a companion in every sense of the word – no pun intended. And he’s far too self-effacing to admit that he’s it for me. I can’t – won’t - work with anyone else, Sir. He’s my true Guide.” 

As a look of irritation crossed the Captain’s face at Jim’s words, Blair quickly jumped in to try and defuse the potentially awkward moment. 

“Um, well, although it’s true that I haven’t put myself forward, Sir, I think that if Jim wants me, there is a way we can get round it...” and he tailed off worriedly as the big Captain glared at him even as Jim squeezed his uninjured shoulder in comfort and reassurance. When Simon indicated that he continue, he said, “You know I was working on my doctoral dissertation before I was attacked?” And when Simon nodded in confirmation he said, “Well, I’m hoping that Rainier will take me back so I can at least complete my dissertation. But I’ve decided that I won’t be submitting the one on modern Sentinels after all.” When Jim stared at him in astonishment, he murmured soothingly, “Think about it, Jim. I know you’ve said you’re OK for me to write it, but I’m thinking that there’s no need to make criminals a gift of information regarding Sentinel detectives. I do want to complete the study, and I can use data from Alex Barnes as well as anonymous data from you to authenticate it without putting you in the spotlight. But I want it to be a sort of manual, if you like, to benefit you and others like you.” 

“That would be great, Blair, and I really appreciate your understanding, but what about you? You deserve your doctorate....” 

“And I’ll get it, all being well” added the younger man with a grin. “And hopefully we can solve the problem of me working with you at the same time” and he turned to smile again at Simon, who was now looking somewhat confused. 

“You see, Sir, when I thought I’d never find a real live Sentinel, my dissertation committee told me to work on my alternative topic – the study of closed societies like Law Enforcement Agencies and the Fire Service. Before Alex found me, I had arranged with Captain Anderson of Homicide to get a ride-along pass to observe his detectives at work. Perhaps you could see your way to getting one for me so I can ride with Jim...?” and he fixed the big man with his most appealing puppy dog expression as Jim looked on hopefully. 

Apparently unable to resist the combined pressure, Simon finally shook his head as he grinned ruefully. “Do you ever get turned down, kid? Because you’ve got that whole wide-eyed pleading thing down to a fine art! OK, I’ll go with it. But only for ninety days initially, alright? After that we’ll just have to see how it goes, OK? And of course, I’m assuming you want a bit more time off to take care of this young man, am I right?” he said, quirking an eyebrow at Jim. 

“Thanks, Simon. We’d really appreciate that. And thanks for listening to us. You won’t regret it, Sir.” 

“See to it that I don’t” answered Simon with a mock quelling glare at both of them as he got to his feet. 

“I’ll get back to the PD and get the ball rolling so the pass is ready for you once you’re up and about again, kid. Meanwhile, take care of each other” he admonished, chuckling as he exited the loft, leaving two relieved and slightly stunned men in his wake.  


\----------------------------  


And so it had happened. As soon as Blair had received a favourable response from Rainier, and his stitches were removed, he had immediately insisted on commencing his ride-along role with Jim, although both men were careful to ensure he didn’t overdo things until the shoulder was improved. Jim knew that Blair still suffered from painful spasms, especially if he forgot sometimes and moved too sharply or tried to lift something too heavy, but overall things were going well. He was dividing his time between accompanying Jim at the PD and doing a few classes as a stand-in teacher until such time as his Teaching Fellowship could be reactivated. 

And Jim smirked to think that, in a mere few weeks, Blair had won over pretty well all the MCU personnel, both police and admin staff with his cheerful and helpful attitude and apparently boundless energy and enthusiasm. It didn’t hurt that his influence ensured that Jim’s attitude had improved enormously also; another reason for his colleagues to be grateful for his Guide’s presence. For they did understand about the Sentinel and Guide phenomenon now, although it was tacitly agreed that it remain a more or less open secret within the confines of the department. 

Only Jim saw exactly what cost the whole Alex Barnes episode and his injury had had on Blair in the privacy of their home, when bad dreams and residual pain wore on the young man’s wounded psyche and he was unable to hide behind his carefree veneer. 

On the other hand, Jim could justifiably congratulate himself for helping assuage his Guide’s physical pain, carefully using Sentinel touch to massage and manipulate the injured limb, frequently reducing the smaller man to a state of boneless and relaxed contentment. 

And that in itself had gradually led to the strengthening of their physical bond, as Blair grew to trust Jim more and more with his care and wellbeing, relaxing into gentle mutual snuggling and kissing and feeling cherished even as he cherished Jim. 

As Jim laid the table with placemats and silverware, he felt more than a little smug as he recalled the evening when their snuggling had moved on to gentle love-making, and their bond was completed.  


\------------------  


Although Jim had made up his small spare room for Blair when they first returned to the loft, not wanting to put any unnecessary pressure on the young man until he had healed somewhat both mentally and physically, the very first night Blair had had a nightmare of immense proportions, bringing Jim hurtling downstairs to hold and comfort his Guide through the ensuing panic attack. Once calmed, Jim had virtually carried Blair up to his own bed, promising simple comfort rather than sexual activity. Blair had trusted him, and slept peacefully through the rest of the night and every night since, cuddled in Jim’s strong arms. 

Nevertheless, Jim had been as good as his word, however hard it was on his own self-control, and had refrained from pushing Blair until the evening of Blair’s first day at the PD. That day had been physically trying for his barely-healed Guide, as well as hard on his damaged ego, and Jim had insisted that he relax and enjoy a full Sentinel-style massage. Blair had agreed with alacrity, and lying on the couch, had given himself over to Jim’s talented hands, only to find himself growing more and more aroused the more he enjoyed the wonderful sensations. 

Realising that at last he felt ready and able to reciprocate properly, Blair had rolled over with an effort and offered his mouth to Jim for a kiss, rapidly moving beyond the soft brushes of their previous sessions to deep and passionate explorations of each other’s mouths, greedily drinking in taste and texture until forced to break off in order to breathe. Eyes alight with desire, Jim had held out his hand to Blair, wanting to take the action to their bed, and thrilled when Blair rose without demur, just as eager now to take the final step to cement their partnership. 

The ensuing lovemaking had been amazing for both men. Jim had taken his time learning and imprinting his Guide’s beautiful body before preparing him carefully for penetration, and was deeply affected by Blair’s enthusiastic response to his touches, such that when they finally joined in mutual ecstasy, the white-hot heat of passion and total understanding tore through them, binding them forever as one, two halves of a complete entity, Sentinel and Guide for life.   


\------------------------  


Giving the spaghetti sauce another stir, Jim’s face broke out into a wide grin of delight as he heard his lover’s old Volvo approach, glad that Blair hadn’t been delayed too much after his evening lecture. Following the smaller man’s progress from car to elevator, and chuckling at Blair’s almost unconscious muttering as he seemed unable to remain completely silent, Jim opened the door before Blair needed to use his keys, and drew the young man into the loft and into his arms. 

“Welcome home, baby” he murmured before claiming Blair’s lush lips in a loving kiss. Several minutes later, a happily breathless Blair replied, “Wow, man. When you say ‘Welcome’, you really mean it! Not that I’m complaining, lover, but what did I do to deserve this?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. How about, I’ve been apart from you for a whole afternoon and evening, and I want to treat you to a slap up meal and bed?” Jim responded, waggling his eyebrows comically as Blair dissolved into peals of laughter. 

“Well, since I’m sure that that’s your spaghetti sauce I can smell, I think you might well get your wish, Oh Sentinel Mine” and Blair beamed up at Jim, dazzling the older man with his beauty, and filling Jim’s heart with love for this hurt but wonderful soul who had given himself into Jim’s care. 

“Dinner’ll be ready in five, babe, so how about you freshen up a bit, and I’ll pour us a glass of wine?” 

“You got it, lover! You’re spoiling me – and I love it!” and Blair laughed merrily as he went to the bathroom to do as Jim suggested. 

Five minutes later he was back, and he moved into the kitchen to give Jim a one-armed hug, quietly leaning his head against the taller man’s shoulder for a moment. 

“What’s that for, baby?” enquired Jim, concerned at the change in Blair’s demeanour. 

“It’s a thank you, Jim” Blair replied, fixing his lover with a frank and adoring gaze. “Thank you for loving me, and thank you for restoring my faith in Sentinels. I know I was naive in thinking that they were all good guys – it never occurred to me that Alex could have been so evil” and he sighed in self-condemnation, still sorrowful at his bitter disillusion. 

“For what it’s worth, lover, I still don’t think she was a true Sentinel” Jim said quietly, wanting to comfort and reassure his Guide. “Sure, she might have had the senses, but she had the morals of a snake. And she certainly didn’t deserve you, baby!” 

“Yeah, I realise that now. I was blinded by my own desire to be proved right” and Blair ducked his head for a moment, before raising it again, happiness restored, and smile back in place. 

“But thanks to you, Jim, I’ve got my life back. I have a real home for the first time in my life, and I have my very own gorgeous Sentinel lover. Just goes to show that sometimes dreams _can_ come true....” 

And as Jim kissed the tempting mouth again, he couldn’t have agreed more.  


**The End.** 44 


End file.
